


Babysitting Sherlock

by WholockHobbit88



Series: Little Sherlock and John [17]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Adult baby, Age Regression, Caretaking, Fluff, Gen, Infantilism, Little Space, Non-Sexual Age Play, little!sherlock, repaired relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10081595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WholockHobbit88/pseuds/WholockHobbit88
Summary: When John has to go away for a work conference, he and Sherlock decided its a good opportunity for Mycroft to babysit little Sherlock. When the day comes, though, Sherlock is apprehensive. Mycroft gives his all to be the best big brother he can be to Sherlock but Sherlock still finds himself holding back. After a bad night, some old feelings resurface and Sherlock and Mycroft finally work through old hurts and find a new, wonderful dynamic to their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

"Sherlock, you're not answering Daddy's question" John said with as much patience as he could manage. "I asked you if you had everything you need to spend the night with Mycroft."

"And I told you, I'm not spending the night with Mycroft!" Sherlock said forcefully, stamping his foot to prove that he meant business. Considering that he was clad in a bunny t-shirt, nappy and purple fuzzy socks, and yelling around a dummy, it wasn't that threatening.

"I know you're upset, sweetheart, but if you take that tone with Daddy he will have to spank you" John warned Sherlock.

Sherlock frowned, looking for several moments as if he seriously considered throwing a fit but decided to whine instead. "I don't want to stay with Mycroft!" Sherlock whinged, tossing his dummy to the ground petulantly.

John sighed tiredly. "We've already discussed this; you are staying with Mycroft" he said with an air of finality to it.

"Now, why don't you put on something nice to wear for your brother?" John suggested brightly, setting out Sherlock's little clothes. "How about your pirate outfit or your cute skirt?"

When John turned back toward Sherlock with a smile on his face, Sherlock was looking at him like he'd slapped him or something. "Daddy!" he said, his mouth hanging open in horror.

"What?" John asked, completely oblivious to Sherlock's disgust.

"I can't wear my skirt! Why would you even ask!?" Sherlock said dramatically.

"Because you love that outfit" John said, looking at the cute frilly onesie, proudly proclaiming My Daddy Loves Me on it.

"Mycroft will laugh at me! You know he used to!" Sherlock said, falling down on the ground in full blown tantrum mode. He just lay like a lump on the floor, refusing to do anything out of spite.

"Oh for Christ's sake….."John muttered under his breath, tossing the skirt down. He looked at his watch; if Sherlock kept this up then he would be late getting to his conference.

Sherlock's head popped up, a wicked smile on his face, fully animated now. "Awwww…Daddy said a bad word!" he said, pointing dramatically at John.

John scowled at Sherlock. "Fine, don't wear your skirt, even though Mycroft has already seen you in it. Wear your pirate outfit" he said, bypassing Sherlock's childlike scold.

Sherlock frowned, obviously annoyed John didn't play into his tease. "No!" he yelled, hitting his fists on the floor for emphasis.

John took a deep breath. The retort of 'Fine, be naked when he gets here for all I care' was on his tongue but he took a different tact, knowing that if he got upset then Sherlock would follow suit and would likely be screaming and crying in 60 seconds flat.

John sat down on the bed and held out his arms for Sherlock to come to him. "Come here, Sherlock. Sit on Daddy's lap." He said in a calm voice.

Sherlock was visibly surprised and debated it for a moment. Finally, he got off the floor and walked over to John, awkwardly climbing into his lap as much as his large frame would allow. When he had his arms wrapped around John's neck, holding on, John looked into his eyes and smiled. "Sherlock, you remembered we talked about this" John explained. "Mycroft would like to be part of you being little and you told me that you were comfortable with that. Have you changed your mind? Because when I told you I had this conference, we both decided it would be a good chance for Mycroft and you to spend little time together."

Sherlock nibbled his thumb and looked at his lap. "No…..I didn't change my mind" he said finally.

"Well, then what's the problem?" John asked, giving Sherlock a tiny kiss on his nose affectionately.

Sherlock still wouldn't look at John. "Well…you know, Mycroft doesn't know which cup I like best and what if he doesn't know we always watch cartoons when we eat lunch? He doesn't know the names of all of my stuffies! And you know, Daddy, he doesn't know how to play very many games!"

John smiled, resisting the urge to laugh. "Mycroft is new to all of this but he wants to learn. If he gets something wrong, tell him, nicely of course, the right way to do it. And remember, Sherlock, he is your brother, so he knows a lot about you just by looking at you." John said.

"Yeah…"Sherlock said, hesitating, looking uncomfortable still.

"What else is there?" John asked, knowing Sherlock wasn't done.

Sherlock paused. "What if I get scared in the middle of the night and can't sleep alone? What if I get a belly ache and there's no one to rub my stomach? And you know I have to have kisses before bed. How will I go to bed like you insist I do without hugs and kisses?" he asked fretfully.

John smiled at him; he knew there was more to Sherlock's worry than he said at surface level. He wasn't just worried about not having the affection that he was accustomed to having with John. He was simultaneously worried that Mycroft would not be affectionate toward him and worried that he wouldn't know how to respond if he suddenly was.

"Mycroft isn't your Daddy so I'm sure that his way of caring for you will be different but that doesn't mean he won't be affectionate toward you" John said understandingly. "You both are feeling this out; you've gone years without really talking or interacting much. I'm sure he has his own worries too. You'll just have to feel it out and see what feels best for the both of you."

"What about my nappies?" Sherlock worried.

John knew that Sherlock was worried about that but he was surprised that he voiced it. "We talked about that and how that's something a lot of people might not want to try at first. Daddy is the only one who has ever changed your nappies so that's okay. Mycroft might not want to try it this first time. If he doesn't, then you can handle it by yourself. If does want to try it, though, you should let him. That will mean a lot if he wants to try it."

Sherlock bit his lip, looking unconvinced. "I don't want to take care of it" he said.

John hugged him close. "I know you don't but I promise this will be a good thing. You've had play dates here with Mycroft and this will only be even better" he tried to encourage him.

"But you've always been there" Sherlock said, looking red and hurried as if he was working himself up to get upset again.

"You'll do fine, I promise, Sherlock" John said, "Mycroft has my mobile number and so you can text me if need anything. And if I don't answer right at first, don't freak out. I will be in the conference but I'll answer as soon as I'm able. Mycroft will take good care of you, I'm sure"

Right then there was a knock on the front door and Sherlock jumped. "Ah, and there he is now" John said, to which Sherlock's response was to dash under the bed, holding his blankie tightly in his hand.

John tried to believe his own words as he looked at Sherlock cowering and prepared to leave. After Sherlock's health scare, Mycroft had expressed his desire to be part of Sherlock's little life. John had been happy to begin to share some of it with him; he was surprised how sensitive Mycroft already seemed to be to it. He was hesitant when he came over to visit Sherlock but he seemed to sense, with his Holmes intelligence, what Sherlock needed and was pretty attentive. But that didn't mean that John didn't worry he might be out of his element without John there if Sherlock had a full blown melt down or massive fit. He worried every time that he left Sherlock; he couldn't help it. But he had work to do and tried not to worry too much; Mycroft could handle it, he had to convince himself.

"Sherlock" John said in amusement as he knelt down to see him under the bed, "Are you going to let Mycroft find you under the bed hiding from him when he shows up?"

Sherlock didn't take the bait. He growled at John petulantly like a dog.

"Ah, I see. You're mad at me for leaving. Well, I'm going to go get the door, little angry puppy." John said, standing up and walking to the door. Mycroft had waited to be let it, a nice change from when they didn't really know each on a personal basis and he just let himself in.

"Hello, Mycroft. Come on in" John said with more happiness than he was feeling, the realness of leaving Sherlock settling in on him. He hoped that it wasn't too apparent to Mycroft's observational skills.

"Good afternoon, John" Mycroft said, walking into the room. John prided himself on his own observational skills; despite Mycroft's composure, he seemed a little more fidgety than usual. Moving his feet more, touching his umbrella more…..he was nervous just like he and Sherlock were.

"Sherlock's in the bedroom, I'll go get him quickly; I'm running a bit late" John said, fidgeting slightly on his own.

Sherlock took that opportunity to give a particularly loud wolf-like howl from the bedroom. John laughed nervously; he was glad when Mycroft smiled back. "I take it Sherlock's having a hard time with your leaving?" Mycroft guessed correctly.

"Yeah" John said, "He always gets a bit difficult when I leave. Hope he doesn't give you too much trouble."

Mycroft looked more at ease than John expected. "I'll take care of it" he assured John, "Don't worry about it. I'll coax him out"

John hesitated for a moment but eventually took his suitcase and moved toward the door. "Well, I guess that would be alright." He said, not sure that it would be. "Sherlock!" he called toward the bedroom. "I'm leaving. Goodbye!"

John wasn't sure it would work; Sherlock was pretty out of sorts. But he was glad when he heard the sound of Sherlock's feet thundering down the hallway and saw him racing toward him.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" Sherlock yelled, almost throwing himself at John in an effort to hug him. John could hardly breathe Sherlock's arms were so tight around his neck.

"Don't go, Daddy!" Sherlock begged him, finally giving way to heavy tears, sobbing on John's neck.

"Sweetheart, I have to go." John said, his heart breaking. "I'll be back tomorrow and you can call me or text me tonight if you need to. I love you, honey"

Sherlock was too far off, his wailing too loud and incoherent to say anything; it only got worse when John hugged him tighter and then tried to disengage himself from Sherlock. Sherlock clung tighter, kicked his feet hard and sobbed with all he had. John had all but decided to give in to him when he felt Sherlock pulled back off him. Mycroft had Sherlock under the arms, gently pulling him back.

"Sherlock, Daddy has to go now. Say good bye to him" Mycroft said in a firm but caring voice. John was stunned w

Sherlock didn't say goodbye but didn't cling either; he fell down on the ground by Mycroft's feet, crying into his hands as if resigned to his fate.

John was surprised that it had worked but was relieved at the same time. "Goodbye Sherlock. I love you" John said, giving Sherlock a kiss on the top of his head and then mouthing "Thank you" toward Mycroft where Sherlock couldn't see.

John waited a moment for Sherlock to say good bye but he was too upset. Reluctantly, John left the flat, with Mycroft holding on to him as he tried to get at him at the last moment.

….

I cried and cried for Daddy to stay but he didn't and I all I could do was cry. I tried to stop because Mycroft was watching me but I couldn't. Daddy said he'd be back tomorrow but that seems like forever.

"Sherlock, it's alright. Daddy will come back" Mycroft's trying to comfort me but he doesn't know. Daddy is gone and I didn't even get to say good bye or give him a kiss or anything. Mycroft put a hand on my shoulder but I shrugged it off.

"It's not okay!" I wail, putting my face into the musty rug on the floor and trying to hide. Mycroft doesn't try to touch me again and I'm glad.

"I know you're really upset, Sherlock" Mycroft tells me somewhere close to my head. "But it will be alright. I have a nice day planned for us. I got you a surprise too. Would you like to see it?"

Usually, I love surprises but all I can think about is that I didn't tell Daddy bye and maybe he's mad at me and he's gone and if he's mad I can't tell him sorry. Maybe he won't even miss me!

"I didn't even say good bye!" I cry into the carpet, coughing as the dust gets in my mouth.

"I did try to get you to say goodbye" Mycroft tells me.

"Daddy's going to be mad at me!" I wait, pounding my fists so hard it hurts. Why doesn't he get it?

Mycroft is quiet for a while and then he says, "Would it help if you could send Daddy a text goodbye?"

"Yes!" I say. That really would help!

"Okay, then we will send Daddy a text. But you have to calm down and help me with that" Mycroft says.

I try to calm down but it feels really hard to breathe, like an elephant is sitting on my lungs. "I….cant!" I tell him, trying hard to breathe and feeling like I can't and my eyes sting.

"I can't do it for you. I need your help Sherlock? Can you help me?" Mycroft asks me.

Mycroft never needs help with anything. All I can think about is Daddy and my thoughts are getting too big. "You have…..his….number!" I cry. Why hasn't he just done it already?

"I have Daddy's number but you need to tell me what to say. Now, here, Sherlock sit up and look at me" Mycroft says firmly. Daddy would call it firm; I call it mean.

I still can't breathe and when I get up, I feel Mycroft pull me up to sit. He sits down on the floor in front of me which looks kind of funny because he never sits on the floor, even if he is just in his trousers and nice shirt and not his usual fancy suit.

"Look at my eyes, Sherlock" Mycroft prods me, taking my hands. That makes me pause and I do look at him. I chock on my spit in my throat and I still think of mad Daddy but Mycroft does have my attention.

"Breathe in" Mycroft tells me, "Now breathe out."

I do what Mycroft tells me. I crush his hands in mine and breathe in and out when he tells me. After probably like five minutes or an hour, I can breathe on my own without Mycroft telling me to. Daddy has done this trick with me before when I get too upset. Daddy must have told Mycroft about it.

"See? Isn't that better? All calm now" Mycroft says encouragingly.

It is better; my chest doesn't hurt as bad and I don't feel like I'm going to throw up. "Yeah" I say, "Did Daddy tell you how to do that?"

"No" Mycroft says.

"Then how did you know how to do that?" I ask, curious. If I was big, I wouldn't have to even ask but I don't want to think big now.

Mycroft fidgets a little bit. "Don't you remember, Sherlock? I used to do this when you were little and got too upset" he tells me.

I don't know why but I am suddenly aware that it is really quiet and I'm still holding Mycroft's hands it feels weird. I pull back, smiling but feeling weird. If I was big I could maybe remember it but then again I don't want to. I hesitate for a moment, my littleness slipping. Then I notice I'm sitting there in just my nappy and t-shirt and feel very small not to mention my face heats up.

"Okay, okay, now we text Daddy?" I ask, my sense of urgency coming back.

Mycroft looks just as relieved to break away, taking a seat in my chair instead of the floor. "Of course" he tells me. "What would you like to say to him?"

Mycroft pulls out his mobile and I perch on the arm of his chair watching him. He scrolls through his contacts super slow and I try really hard to not pull the phone out of his hands.

"Alright, there's Daddy. What would you like to say to him?" Mycroft asks me, getting ready to type.

"Tell him I miss him and I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye and make sure he's not mad at me AND-" I would have kept on if Mycroft didn't say my name like ten times, getting louder and louder.

"What?" I ask with a huff. It's rude that Mycroft interrupted me.

"Slow down a bit" Mycroft says, struggling to type, "And don't worry about him being mad at you; I'm sure he's not"

"Well, just ask him!" I say, rolling my eyes but it's not like Mycroft can see it.

"Hey, you better not be so rude. Daddy told me where your naughty mat is" Mycroft says, glancing at me.

I bite my lip and frown; I want to argue. Mycroft can't punish me! Only…he CAN. I know he can and he would too. Daddy told me for days that I had to do what Mycroft said, just as if he was Daddy.

I cross my arms as Mycroft types as slow as a snail. "Did you do it?" I ask, trying my best not to sound rude.

"Yes" Mycroft said, holding up the mobile so I can see it.

Daddy, this is Sherlock. I wanted to say goodbye because I didn't get a chance to before you left. I'll miss you and I love you. Please don't be angry I ignored you when you left.

"Seem all in order?" Mycroft asks.

I nod. "Yeah, I think that's all. Why hasn't he sent anything back yet?"

Mycroft laughs a little bit though I don't know why that's funny. "You have to give him a chance. He did say he might not be able to text back immediately." He tells me.

"But what if he really doesn't want to text back?" I ask, feeling a flip in my tummy.

"Why don't we get out your surprise while we wait for Daddy to text back?" Mycroft asks, turning toward me with a grin.

I gasp. I forgot about the surprise! "Yes! Yes! What is it!?" I say, jumping off the chair and jumping up and down on the floor, nearly slipping in my socks. At the last moment I remember to add, "Please? Thank you!"

Mycroft laughs a little as he pulls out a small, bright paper wrapped box out of his pocket. It's so small; what could be in there!? "There you go, Sherlock. Hope you like it" he tells me.

I take the box quick though hopefully not too quick as to seem rude; I really don't want to sit on the naughty mat. "Ooooo…can I open it?" I ask, holding it to my chest.

"Go for it" Mycroft tells me with a smile and I have the paper off in less than a second, ripping open the box.

It's the best, cutest bee necklace with a pretty gold chain and yellow and green stones making up the wings. It looks like it's for kids but not so little I can't wear it when I'm big and I know it's really expensive too. It so pretty and I can't wait to see it in the sunshine because I know it will sparkle and I will feel fabulous!

"Oh, it's so PRETTY!" I say, holding the necklace tightly in my hands and toward my chest.

"So you like it?" Mycroft asks, sitting on the edge of the chair and looking at me like he thought maybe I wouldn't like it.

"I LOVE it!" I say, staring at it. "I want to put it on right now!"

"You want me to help you?" Mycroft offers and I don't even think about it being weird, him being so helpful.

I sit on the floor in front of Mycroft and he pushes my curls out of the way to clasp it around my neck. It hangs on my chest, sitting right above my bunny on my t-shirt. "It's so cute! I look fantastic!" I say, jumping up and twirling around.

"And so modest too" Mycroft says with a laugh, but then more serious he says, "It looks really nice on you, Sherlock."

I'm so happy no one even has to tell me to say, "Thank you"

I'm admiring my necklace when I hear Mycroft's mobile buzz. "Ah! Daddy's text! What is it?" I ask, barely holding back from snatching the phone from Mycroft's hand. I'm sure that he would not like it.

Mycroft turned the phone toward my so I could see it. "See? I told you he wasn't mad at you" he says.

Sherlock, I am not mad you, I promise. I know that you were upset when I left. I hope you and Mycroft have a great time together. Daddy loves you; see you tomorrow.

"Yeah! Daddy's not mad!" I say, clapping my hands in excitement. My tummy doesn't hurt anymore and my heart doesn't feel like it's going to beat out of my chest anymore and I'm not worried I'm going to mess my nappy anymore.

"See, I told you. Daddy is very understanding." Mycroft said brightly. "Now, I think it's time for us to get ready to go"

"Where are we going?" I ask. I feel a little excited but at the same time I don't know what to expect. Mycroft and I haven't gone anywhere together since…ever. And especially not with me being little. I feel a little shy about being little around Mycroft, especially around other people. What if I need a nappy change? What if my tummy feels bad and I get sick? What if I get tired in the cab and I don't have Daddy to sleep on?

"We're going to lunch first. You need to get dressed" Mycroft says.

I feel my eyes drift down toward my nappy again and I feel embarrassed. I wish I'd listened when Daddy told me to put something on. Not my skirt of course, that was crazy of him, but something else.

"Where are we having lunch?" I ask, putting my hands on my lap so it covers up most of my nappy.

"That's a surprise" Mycroft says, "But I promise you'll like it"


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, can we get ice cream for lunch!?" I ask in excitement. Mycroft loves cake so much that I think maybe it'll work. Daddy doesn't let me have just sweets but he doesn't like them that much. Daddy's extra weight comes all from steaks, Chinese and spirits.

Mycroft tilts his head toward me in his 'you've got to be kidding' look. "Ice cream is not lunch, Sherlock. You will have to eat actual food." He says, "But as you so cleverly point out all the time I rarely skip dessert. And I certainly wasn't planning on doing so when I take a little boy out."

I don't know why but my face really heats up when Mycroft calls me a little boy. I feel very little and I fidget and pull at my necklace. Mycroft seems to notice I can't think of anything to say and he helps me.

"You need to put some trousers and shoes on. Do you want to change your shirt?" he asks me.

I look at my cute bunny shirt. "I'll leave the shirt on" I tell him confidently.

"Alright. Do you need help getting dressed?" he asks helpfully.

I wouldn't hesitate if Daddy asked but for some reason I tell Mycroft, "No…I can do it."

Mycroft looks like he wants to help but I walk off to my room alone. I go to my closet and look through my trousers. Daddy usually picks out my clothes when I'm little or at least sets out some things for me to choose from but I'm sure I can do this. I have a cute little pair of purple shorts that will look great with my bunny shirt so I begin to dig through my closet for them.

Only, I can't find it. I dig and dig through a mass of toys and shoes and a bunch of John's old clothes that have somehow made their way in here. I step on Legos, get tangled in shoes strings and I get so frustrated I even say, "What the hell!" like Daddy because Daddy isn't here to hear me say it but I can't find my purple trousers!

I miss Daddy and I start to suck my thumb. I don't know where my dummy is and I don't want to look for it.

I'm sitting on the floor, sucking my thumb sore when Mycroft hesitantly walks into my bedroom, looking a bit nervous. I can't blame him; the last time he just walked in my room me and John were….well, doing grown up things.

"Sherlock? You alright in here?" Mycroft asks.

"I can't find my purple trousers!" I yell, almost biting my thumb as I scream.

"Do you need help?" Mycroft asks, coming closer into the room.

"Yes!" I say angrily. I should have already been dressed and ready to go.

"All you have to do is ask and I'll help you" Mycroft says. He holds out a hand to help me up and pulls me over toward the bed. When he prods me toward the edge of the bed I sit down on it, thumb in mouth.

Mycroft grabs a stray dummy off the night stand and pulls my thumb out of my mouth. He replaces it with the dummy. "Don't suck your thumb. There are countless germs underneath fingernails." He tells me.

I suck on the dummy to keep from saying "I know!" So, Mycroft doesn't like thumb sucking either. Surprising, since I know he sucked his thumb until he was eight and have reason to believe he still harbors a distinct oral fixation now. Well, I can't blame him…so do I.

I suck on my dummy and let my grown up thoughts go away, bouncing up and down on the bed while Mycroft looks for my shorts. It's so much easier to let him do it. I've really got a good bounce going when Mycroft returns with my shorts.

"Ah! You found them!" I say excited, coming to land on the bed hard.

"Yes, you've got quite the miss-match in there" Mycroft said.

I go to take the trousers out of his hands but he keeps ahold of them. "I'll do it" he says. His face looks…what's the word? It looks like he's happy and sad at the same time and like he thinks I need help. Like he wants to help…so I hold out my legs and let him help.

Mycroft works my legs into the shorts and then I wiggle the rest of the way into them. I feel shy again when Mycroft helps me with the zipper and button, pulling it over my nappy. Mycroft's cheeks turn a bit red so he must be too. Daddy told me that Mycroft might be shy about nappies and I've always had them covered around him and Nana. I think about taking it off while Daddy's away but I'm really too little for the potty right now. Mycroft might not remind me to go and then I'd have an accident. How embarrassing that would be!

Mycroft goes back to the closet and comes back with a pair of sandals. As he takes off my socks and puts my sandals on, I glance at his mobile sticking out of his pocket. "How did you get all of the government people to leave you alone today?" I ask him, curious. I thought he'd be getting calls all the time like he does sometimes during our play dates.

"I don't take very many days off but when I do my people know that I really need it" Mycroft says, "They can manage for a day without me. They know it's important for me to not be bothered today when I'm with you."

"How come you wanted to spend your day off taking care of me?" I ask, wondering. Mycroft never has spent this much time with me before. Daddy said that Mycroft wanted to start spending little time with me when he started coming over for play time but he didn't really tell me why. I know at the time everyone was worried about me being sick; everyone, including me, thought I was going to die. But now I'm fine; I'm not sick. So why did Mycroft still want to be around?

Mycroft gets that look again; the sad/happy one. He waits a long time before he smiles at me and says, "Why wouldn't I want to spend the day taking care of you?"

Everyone knows when you answer a question with a question, you are avoiding answering. But I can tell he doesn't want to tell me and I don't want to argue so I just smile back and say, "I guess you're right. I AM pretty awesome" to which Mycroft laughs.

….

It's very weird being little out in public without Daddy. We go out to Mycroft's car and ride in it instead of a cab which is both kind of strange and kind of good too. It's weird because when I ride in a car with Daddy I usually hold his hand or cuddle up close to him but I can't do that with Mycroft. And I'd like to; I feel a little nervous because Mycroft's driver drives too fast and doesn't pay attention to any of the traffic rules. But, since it's a private car and not a cab I can suck my dummy and clutch my blankie without a strange look from a cabby so that's what I do. My blankie is soft and comfortable against my face and it smells so much like Daddy. Daddy says it's dirty but I refuse to let him wash it because if he does it'll just smell like dumb fabric softener and lose all of its Daddy smell.

Mycroft takes me to McDonald's for lunch! I can't believe it! I thought that he'd take us to some fancy, expensive place but I'm glad he didn't. Mycroft orders everything large but I don't tease him about it because he lets me order a fizzy drink and chips with my Happy Meal instead of milk and apples like Daddy does. AND he lets me make my new Batman Happy Meal toy fly across the table the whole time I eat and he doesn't even get mad when it repeatedly crashes into his Big Mac. He doesn't make me finish my food and he lets me eat a chocolate AND caramel sundae while he eats his extra-large McFlurry and he even lets me pick out some of the M&Ms. When we leave I feel like I could run for miles and miles and miles.

"Where are we going now?" I ask Mycroft after when we are riding through the country side. It doesn't look like any place I've ever been.

Mycroft just smiles at me and looks sly. "It's a surprise" he says.

"Is everything a surprise?" I ask, bouncing up and down on the seat because I can't sit still because of the ice cream and fizzy drinks.

"It might be" Mycroft says, unhelpful.

I look out the window and watch fields and little farm houses pass by and I think we drive forever. The fizzy drinks get to my bladder quick and I'm very glad that I decided not to be big and wear pants. I feel a little weird using my nappy in front of Mycroft; I know people don't usually notice because they notice nothing but I feel like Mycroft could tell if I was weeing in my nappy, I chance a look at him and he's not looking at me so I let it all go. I'm pretty sure Mycroft doesn't notice but my face still seems to feel as warm as my nappy area.

The car finally stops but it looks like there is nothing around but hay and dried out grass. "Where are we?" I ask, bouncing up and down. It doesn't look very exciting but surely there must be something interesting enough for Mycroft to drive us all the way out here.

When I look over at Mycroft he's taking off his shoes and putting on Wellingtons. "What are you doing?" I ask. I don't think Mycroft ever wore Wellingtons, even when he was a little kid, though I wasn't there so maybe he did.

"These will come in handy" Mycroft said, handing me a pair. I frown slightly, but throw off my flip flops and put on the boots. "Sandals wouldn't do you very well at a farm"

"A farm?" I ask a little too loud; Daddy would say rude. But seriously, why in the world would we be at a farm?

Mycroft gets out of the car and walks around to my side, opening the door and smiling down at me. "I always have a plan in mind, Sherlock" he said, calmer and happier than I've seen him in a long time. "I wouldn't think of bringing you to any old farm. This isn't a regular farm; this is a honey bee farm."

I can tell that he's waiting for a big reaction from me and I don't think I disappoint him. I'm squealing and hopping and have Mycroft around the neck so tightly he acts like he's chocking but he's smiling too.


	3. Chapter 3

People don't understand being little. The reason it's such a big secret is because people think that it's bad. They think that it's a grown up naughty thing; I suppose for some people it is. But for me it isn't. It's hard to describe exactly what it means to me because it means so much. When I'm little I don't have to worry about anything. Anything that I could possibly need or want, Daddy is there to fix it and I know I can always count on that. My mind doesn't race out of control like it does when I'm big; everything is amazing and curious and things mean something when I'm little that would mean nothing when I'm big. When you're a little boy no one expects you to be rational and composed; you are free to have feelings and be able to express them. No matter how nasty and mean and ugly I behave when I am little, the few people I allow to see me like that still love me and think I am beautiful. When I am big, the people who are around me need me; they need my genius to solve their problems. When I am little, the only people who are around me are the people that genuinely want me for me.

That small group is getting bigger, I know, as I run around the field that day. Even though I'm absorbed so fully in the wonder and amazement that the bees around me bring, I can't ignore that fact either. The sun is bright and the air is hot but all that matters is that I am running through the field, chasing bees and Mycroft is watching me. I don't act like I'm watching him but I am. Now my small safe circle is going from just John and Mrs. Hudson to John, Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft. Mycroft has known my little secret the longest but I've always thought that he despised it. Maybe he did for a while but now he doesn't. I can see him out of the corner of my eye, standing care freely, hands in pockets and a smile on his face as he watches me. He's not pretending to have a good time; he genuinely is.

We had a tour through the bee farm; I knew all they told us about bee behavior and honey making since I was really about three so I didn't really listen to it, I just watched the bees the whole time. When I took off through the field afterward, Mycroft started to warn me about getting too close to the bees because I'd get stung but after a few minutes of not heeding the warnings and seeing that the bees weren't going to attack me, Mycroft stopped worrying and started looking happy.

There is a bee swirling around my head and for a moment everything else dissolves out of my head. Instead of running and screaming like most people would, I begin to laugh and when I hold out my hand, the bee lands on my finger. It doesn't sting me.

"You've got quite the touch there, Sherlock" Mycroft tells me, coming closer. I know he's getting ready to leave and I try to ignore that fact.

"I TOLD you" I say dismissively, pointing out the fact that no one should ever doubt anything I say.

Mycroft doesn't argue like he normally would. "I should never have doubted you" he teases me.

The bee finally gets tired of me and flies away. "Come on, Sherlock. It's time to go; say goodbye to the bees" Mycroft tells me when it does.

"Ah…..come on" I begin to whine. I don't want to leave the bees yet. That's the only complaint I've ever had about my home at 221B; there's nowhere there to keep bees.

"I know, I know" Mycroft says soothingly, though just to stop me, "But the farm is closing soon and we have a long drive back. I promise, we will have fun at home too."

"Okay" I agree, as if I had a choice. But still…I'm curious what kind of fun Mycroft has planned for home. "Goodbye bees!" I say and wave away to them as I follow Mycroft back to the car.

I throw off the wellingtons as soon as I get into the car and Mycroft does my seatbelt for me before I have a chance to argue I don't want to wear it. It's way too tight but I leave it the way that Mycroft did it for me. My feet feel so much better out of the boots and I swing them around to give them extra air while the car air conditioner gets going good.

Mycroft pulls his mobile out of his pocket and smiles as he looks down at it. "Look, Daddy sent you a text while we were at the farm" he says.

"Oh! Really? What does it say!?" I ask, leaning over the seat and yet again resisting the urge to rip it out of Mycroft's hand. The last thing I want it is a Mycroft scolding; I'm sure that it would be much worse than a Daddy scolding.

Mycroft holds it out and shows it to me. I miss you, sweetheart. I hope you're having fun at the bee farm with Mycroft.

"Ah! You told Daddy the surprise before me?" I ask as Mycroft pockets his mobile again.

"Of course; I had to. Your Daddy is very protective of you, you know. He wanted to know all the details of what we would be up to when he's gone" Mycroft says, "You are very lucky to have such a good Daddy."

Something about it, the way Mycroft looks so content and the strangeness of hearing him say 'Daddy' which is so foreign to him, snaps me out of my little feelings enough to be struck by the strangeness of all of this. So many years Mycroft scorned this 'habit' of mine. When we were younger he used to tease me and mock me about it; when we grew up he looked the other way but made veiled comments from time to time about it. This is a complete turn and I'd be lying if a part of me wasn't afraid something might go wrong and all of this would fall apart.

"Mycroft…why are you suddenly alright with all of this now?" I ask. I look at my feet and for a moment feel so alien in my wet nappy and bunny clothes.

Mycroft pauses a long time; he can sense that my tone is adult and I know he'd rather not talk about it adult. So would I but I can't help that the worry and unease makes me feel grown up.

"It's a good thing, Sherlock. I'm not trying to trick you" Mycroft says, obviously uncomfortable.

"I know….it's just that you made fun of me for years about this. What changed?" I prod more forcefully. I glance at Mycroft for a fraction of a second before staring back at my feet and see he looks uncomfortable. Out of his element; I'm not used to seeing him like that.

"I first discovered your littleness when I was fourteen. You were seven years old and you had already amassed a huge secret stash of nappies from the neighborhood kids Mum watched. About the same time I found you digging out your old baby clothes and dummies out of the trash when Mum tried to throw them out. I was a kid; I was confused. I didn't understand what you were doing. At that time, I just thought you were being a baby" Mycroft explains. "But when you didn't stop, when you kept doing it as you grew up and added even more 'peculiarities' to your secret habits, I thought something was wrong with you. I admit for a time I believed the wrong but often assumed theory that you were in the making to be a pedophile. Obviously, I can be wrong about some things; your littleness has nothing to do with sex."

I feel a slight sickness in my stomach. It all comes back to me; Mycroft playing around with my littleness, dressing me up and laughing at me when I thought he might actually understand. I didn't know the pedophile bit; it doesn't surprise me but it always hurts. So many people think that's what it about and it isn't at all. I don't LIKE kids; I AM a kid. Until I met John I had never even wanted to have sex.

"Seeing you go through all of the drugs and nonsense that came with that, I thought you were just being self-indulgent." Mycroft said. "When I realized that John was playing into your little side I thought for a long time that it wasn't a good thing. I thought he was making you more dependent and selfish. It was John that showed me I was wrong."

"He did?" I ask. I'm surprised. I've always noticed John's brilliance but I didn't think Mycroft would have learned anything from him. Unusually he doesn't seem to even notice him that much, at least until he started to come around for playdates I guess.

"Yes" Mycroft says with a smile. "I think we both know that we aren't like anyone else. And usually that's a good thing; it means we aren't part of the mindless mass of ordinary people. But…it also means that we don't really have feelings toward others like the ordinary people seem to. When John came into your life and you were so obliviously smitten with him, I confess I was flabbergasted. John, while loyal and moderately intelligent, he didn't seem to be the sort of person you should have been fascinated with. Of course I knew you were in a romantic relationship and but it wasn't until I saw how it was that John acted as your caregiver that I really understood it. There was more obvious, apparent, unbreakable love there than I had seen anywhere else. Everyone should have that."

I don't know what to say. Mycroft talks less about feelings than I do and this is definitely talking about feelings. Everything he's saying is so true though; I never believed in love or that depth of caring for someone until I met John. I didn't believe it was really possible, and if it was, that I would ever want it. It was such a big step of trust and faith, letting John into a place that had always just been mine. John's discovering my secret had been an accident but it had been John that had suggested the idea of actually trying out a caregiver relationship. I hadn't known at the time that strong, capable, sometimes easily angered solider turned doctor was a natural caregiver. It was a huge risk, letting John see that vulnerable, intimate part of myself but it has been so worth it. I'm so glad that I did it; my life would have been a pale shadow of what it is now without John there.

The intimacy of the moment, of talking about so many feeling with us as adults makes me feel uncomfortable. It must make Mycroft feel that way too because the next thing he says is, "So, do you want to send Daddy a text back?" His using the word Daddy to refer to John is cue back to being little, one I'm glad to take.

I smile broadly at him, "Of course I do!" I tell him.

…..

It seems like the ride home takes forever. Now that I'm feeling little again, I feel VERY little. I miss Daddy so much; when I think about it too much on the ride I feel like crying but I don't want to cry in front of Mycroft. I know he's seen me cry before but that doesn't mean I want to show him again; he'll think all I do is cry. But I DO miss Daddy. I want to curl up on his lap and bury my face in his neck and his jumper and go to sleep. I want long hugs and kisses; I'm mad at myself for not giving him any before he left because that was stupid and now I can't give him hugs or kisses. My nappy is too full and cold and I want Daddy to be here so he can change me and put me in warm clothes and cuddle me.

When the car gets to 221B I jump out and race toward the door. Mycroft yells at me to wait on him and I don't realize that until I turn the door but it doesn't open that Daddy gave Mycroft the key because he's the grown up today.

"Sherlock, don't run off without me" Mycroft says in a slightly mean voice when he comes over from talking to the car's driver. "You went right out into the street without me. You could have been hit by a car."

I huff, angry. Why doesn't he just open the door? My nappy is so full it feels wet around my legs and now my stomach is beginning to hurt. Damn lactose…I stamp my foot and say, "Hurry up! You were taking so long I went without you!"

Mycroft doesn't get mad at me even though I'm sassing him. He looks concerned which makes me even madder. "Sherlock, what's the matter?" he asks.

"Nothing! I want to go play" I whine and finally Mycroft opens the door.

"Okay, okay" he says as if I'm being the slow one, "But you know you can tell me if something is wrong, right?"

"Yes, I'm fine" I say hurriedly as I run into the flat. My nappy feels so uncomfortable I pull at it to get away from my legs where it's rubbing but it doesn't help. Mycroft is watching me so I just flop down on my knees in front of the telly and turn cartoons on. I can feel his eyes on me and don't like it; he wants me to say something but I don't want to. I want a new nappy and for my stomach to stop hurting so much. I briefly think about just going poo in my nappy but then Mycroft would know and maybe he'd be mad and maybe he'd never let me have ice cream again so I hold it even though it hurts.

Mycroft sits down in my chair since I'm in the floor. "Sherlock, do you need a new nappy?" he asks me in a calm, almost-like- Daddy voice.

My face feels red and I don't look at him when he says this. How did he know? I don't even smell yet!

"Don't be embarrassed" Mycroft tells me, "It's alright. Let's go get you a new nappy"

"No! I do it!" I say before I even realize I wanted to say it. Now I do look at Mycroft and he looks a little sad. I try to be politer. "I mean it's okay. I can do it myself"

"If you'd rather do it yourself, okay. But, if you need help I can help" Mycroft says. He still seems sad but I try to ignore it as I get up and get a nappy out of my room and take it to the bathroom.

I hate changing my own nappies. I used to do it for years but that's when I had no caregiver and now that I do I'm spoiled; John always does it for me. Mycroft offered to do it for me but for some reason I didn't let him. I feel worried about it and it confuses me. I didn't want to make Mycroft sad and I would have liked to not have to have done it myself but for some reason I said no. Mycroft has seen me naked before so it shouldn't have been a big deal. But it …..is. This is different. Nobody but Daddy changes my nappy, not even Nana. But Nana never offers either…..

Trying not to think about anything, I take off my shorts and undo the tabs on my nappy and let it fall off me before I throw it in the bin. I feel cold and wet on my skin and I don't like it at all; Daddy would clean me up with baby wipes and tickle me and make me laugh. But it's just me and I flop down on the toilet, my stomach hurting too bad to hold it anymore. Pooing when you're little alone is worse than changing a nappy because Daddy's not there to give me the paper. It's a mess and yucky and soon there's toilet paper all over the place; me, the floor, heaps in the toilet. It's a huge mess and I have to clean it up all by myself. I feel so tired and cold and yucky. I miss Daddy so much.

I feel too tired to clean up the paper and all I can do is cry. I put my face in my hands and start to cry. My body shakes and tears run hot down my face but I don't feel better for it. I don't even care about the mess or the nappies; I just want Daddy to be here to give me a hug.

I don't know how long I cry but after a while there's a knock at the door. I don't want Mycroft to come in so I just don't answer; it's too hard to stop crying anyway. But when I don't answer, he just comes in!

"Sherlock, what's the matter? Why are you crying?" Mycroft asks, sticking his head in the bathroom and looking even more worried than earlier.

But I'm embarrassed, sitting on the toilet with paper everywhere and crying. And I miss Daddy and he's not Daddy. "I didn't say you could come in!" I yell and take a bar of soap off the sink and throw it at him. He shuts the door before it hits him but at least he left.

I think about Daddy and wonder where he is and what he's doing and wish so much that I was with him right now. I cry until my stomach aches, not from the lactose anymore but the shaking and then I get off the toilet. I can't clean up the mess or put on a nappy; I'm too tired so I just leave the bathroom and race for Daddy's room.

It's not the same without Daddy but that's all I have right now. I pull back the covers and climb inside. It feels good for a little bit, the cool sheets against my half naked body. But it's not that great without Daddy and so I cry into his pillow, not even caring if the crying makes me sick.

When I'm crying, Mycroft comes in the room. I feel a sudden rush of panic; I remember throwing the soap at him in the bathroom and I'm sure I'm going to get in trouble. When I throw things at Daddy he spanks me and right now I don't even have a nappy on to protect me.

But Mycroft doesn't punish me; he's not even mad. He still looks sad when he sits down on the bed beside me. What is he so sad about? He's not without his Daddy.

"You really miss Daddy, don't you?" Mycroft's asks in a quiet voice, hesitating a moment before putting his hand in my hair like he wants to play with it. I don't want him to play with it and throw the covers over my head, hiding.

"Go away! You're not Daddy, go away!" I yell between cries. Maybe now I'll get in trouble; maybe now Mycroft will smack me.

But no…..still he doesn't. I feel him get off the bed and hear him walk across the room. He's actually doing what I asked? I can't believe it. But before he leaves he says something.

"I know I'm not your Daddy" Mycroft says, his voice even sadder. "But I just want to take care of you too. I'm trying to help you. I know you're lonely without John but maybe you could stop to think I'm lonely too and I just want to be a part of you if you'd let me. I know I've treated you poorly in the past and I'm sorry. I just hope you let me in sometime."

I don't know what to say but I don't have time to talk anyway. A moment later the door shuts and I drift off to sleep underneath sheets that smell like Daddy.


	4. Chapter 4

I take a nap even though I really don't like taking naps. Daddy always says that naps make me feel better and this time I actually think it did. I felt so tired and sick and cold but when I wake up I feel good except that I'm too hot from being underneath the blankets with my hot breath. I push back the covers and lay on my back in Daddy's bed, yawning as I wake up.

My stomach feels much better and I don't feel like crying. I do miss Daddy still but I feel like I can handle it without crying now. It's really quiet in the flat and I begin to worry I'm alone. Did Mycroft leave me? I think about how mean I was and how not mean he was and I feel guilty. This is new; usually Daddy tells me when I'm being insensitive or mean and then I feel bad because I don't want him to think I'm a meany. But now I feel bad and I didn't have to have Daddy tell me anything. Mycroft was trying to be…..nice. No, actually he WAS nice and I? I threw soap at him and told him to go away.

I play at the sheets, thinking about what Mycroft said. The thoughts I have really should be thought of in a grown up mindset because they are so big. But at the same time they are so big that I can't handle them big. Mycroft said he was lonely and I always thought that he didn't like people; he sure makes sure he's around people a lot less than me. Though, I suppose, before I met John I wasn't around people much; the people I encountered on a crime scene didn't count because I never spoke to them and acted like they weren't there. He said he was trying to help me, that he wanted to take care of me…and I won't let him. Why won't I let him?

My fingers find the cute bee necklace he gave me and I twirl it around my fingers, feeling littler and littler until the answer comes to me. I'm afraid of Mycroft because he's hurt me before…It's not a good thing to think and it's not even really fair. He's pulled me from countless crack dens, sat by my bed endless hours at the hospital and shouldered the brunt of my drug withdrawal hate before there was John and yet I never really appreciated it; I resented it usually because he was interfering. But all of that can't make me not feel afraid of letting Mycroft in when I'm little because he wasn't nice to me when I really was little.

But I still feel bad; it's not the right thing to feel and I know that even without Daddy telling me so. That was a long time ago and I need to let Mycroft help me now because he really wants to.

Slowly, I get out of bed and realize that I'm still without a nappy or trousers and I get one of Daddy's nappies out of his closet and put it on. It takes me five tries to get it right, pulling and readjusting the tapes so it fits but even so I don't think it fits like it would if Daddy did it but it'll have to do.

I walk out of John's room quietly, holding my breath but I still don't hear anything. Did Mycroft really get so mad that he left me? I know I'd deserve it if he did but I feel scared if he really did; I don't want to be alone. I rush toward the bathroom to get my trousers and when I see the bathroom I feel even worse about how much of a meanie I was.

The bathroom is completely clean; all of the paper thrown away and my shorts folded and sitting on the edge of the sink. Even after I was so mean to Mycroft, he came in here and cleaned up my mess for me. I put my shorts on and rush into the sitting room and kitchen area, hoping to find Mycroft there.

Thankfully, he is there. He's sitting in my chair, reading the paper. He doesn't look sad or mad; he just looks like his usual self; maybe I shouldn't be little now. I hesitate, staying firmly behind Daddy's chair and wait for Mycroft to notice me.

"Did you have a good nap, Sherlock?" Mycroft finally asks me, setting down the paper. His voice is for little me and smiles at me as he does so; maybe he's not too angry at me.

I sit down in Daddy's chair and feel shy. "Yes…even though I hate naps" I tell him.

"I know time spent sleeping could always be better spent playing but it's good for you" Mycroft tells me with a smile on his face.

He doesn't seem upset but the feeling of guilt feels like a punch in the stomach and I burst out, "I'm sorry I was so mean"

"It's okay, Sherlock" Mycroft tells me in a rush, "Don't worry about it."

It should make me feel better but it really doesn't. He says it like he doesn't want to talk about it; like he doesn't want to talk about his feelings now because it doesn't matter. But it does matter. I don't want to push him though, so I leave it.

Its then that I notice Mycroft has done something else while I've been asleep. Mycroft's discarded papers are on the floor and on top of them are a ton of papers and paint and brushes. I feel excitement burst inside of me and it pushes out everything else.

"Oh! Are we painting?!" I ask, clapping my hands as I notice it. Daddy doesn't let me paint very much because I get it everywhere. That's the point of it, isn't it?

Mycroft smiles. "Yes. But you have to eat dinner first and then you have to take a bath after you paint. I'm sure you'll be covered in it" he says.

"Okay, of course! I love painting!" I say. I'll even eat if it means I get to paint.

I don't like that Mycroft get that happy/sad look again, though it only stays for a moment. "Yes, your Daddy told me that you do. I figured it would be fun" he says.

"It will be fun. Thank you" I say and hopefully it really sounds sincere and not fake like it does a lot of the time.

Mycroft looks happy so it must sound real. The doorbell rings then and Mycroft gets up. "Ah, good the pizza is here!" he says.

Pizza and McDonalds in one day…I might eat every day if this is what it means!

….

We eat pizza for dinner on the sofa and watch cartoons while we eat. I mostly just scrape off the cheese and toppings but Mycroft doesn't say anything about it. He shows such a carefree attitude about what I eat I make up in my mind to stop being so concerned with what he eats and making fat jokes.

After we finish our dinner (quickly!) I get to paint! We watch Inside Out while we paint and I prod Mycroft into painting with me by saying lets paint the Inside Out characters. Mycroft takes a paintbrush, not really looking so sure about it, and begins to use green paint.

"Ah! You're painting Disgust!" I say happily, "She looks really good already!" And that's not a lie either. It really looks like Disgust!

"Thank you. I can't say I've ever counted finger painting as one of my talents" Mycroft says with a smile.

"We are using brushes; it's not finger painting silly!" I say with a laugh.

"Oh, yes, that's very silly of me. What was I thinking?" Mycroft asks, finishing Disgust's dress.

"Is Disgust your favorite?" I ask Mycroft, working hard on a painting of Anger. I think it looks pretty good, if I say so myself.

Mycroft shrugs. "I suppose she would be, yes." He says finally, "She's very concerned with fashion and being proper and staying away from gross things. I like that; it seems like me."

I laugh a bit; Disgust is very Mycroft like. Mycroft leans across the paper and looks at my painting. "Ah, so Anger is your favorite?" he guesses, looking at my painting.

"No" I say, laughing, "Anger is Daddy's favorite because he's a solider and likes fighting and swearing so much"

Mycroft laughs. "I suppose your Daddy does have an angry streak, doesn't he?" he says, "So, if Anger isn't your favorite who is? I bet its Joy seeing as you're so happy all of the time."

My smile fades a bit and I look down at the painting, taking a finger and swirling all of the colors on the paper around like a tornado. "No…..Sadness is my favorite" I tell him honestly. Sometimes when you say Sadness is your favorite people think you're depressed. I'm not depressed; at least not anymore.

"Ah…."Mycroft says understandingly. "Well, that's okay too. You do feel things very strongly don't you? It's okay to do that; feeling sadness strongly means you feel happiness just as strong."

For a moment, all of my past coping mechanisms come rushing back. Why does this keep happening? Why does talking about little stuff with Mycroft make me think of grown up feelings? This doesn't happen so much with Daddy. Mycroft is right that I don't feel things lightly. I'm always very happy or very sad. In the days before Daddy I did all kinds of things to handle it. For a moment, I remember the drug houses; all the ones Mycroft dragged me out of. I can remember the brief, soaring sensation of ecstasy when the needle went in my arm, followed by the horrible, cold, miserable crash of loss. I can recall the seedy BDSM clubs and woman for hire I paid to hurt me in ways that make me feel embarrassed; it felt embarrassing then and that was part of the punishment I felt I needed. The things that I did to myself to cause myself pain….. So many bad, hurtful horrible things…but it never made the sadness go away. It still doesn't go away completely now but it's infinitely better.

Mycroft notices my wandering thoughts and pulls me back to little thoughts of which I'm grateful. "Oh, look, you're making an Anger rainbow" Mycroft says, pointing at my hand which has swirled the paint so much you can't even see it used to be Anger.

"What happened to your brush?" Mycroft asks, me as I plunge now both of my hands in the paint and feel it squish cold and wet through my fingers. Ah…what a nice feeling. I'm definitely little now.

"THIS is finger painting" I tell Mycroft, "It's really the best way to paint, you know?" I stick as many fingers into the paint jar as I can fit, squishing it around before pulling it out and swishing it around the paper.

"Very messy, isn't it?" Mycroft says, looking a bit like he thinks its yucky, still painting very delicately and proper with the paintbrush.

"That's what's fun about it!" I tell him excitedly. "You should try it too!"

Mycroft frowns. "Stick my hands in paint? Wont they stain?" he says.

I laugh. "Now you look like Disgust too!" I say, pointing because he's scrunching his nose like Disgust does when she doesn't like something.

"The paint wont stain you; it'll wash out, I promise" I tell Mycroft, "Please try it"

Mycroft pauses for a moment and then he smiles widely. "Why not? You won't tell anyone" he says, as if he's being naughty. He's got a naughty smile too as he undoes his cuffs and rolls his sleeves up to his elbows.

"Of course I won't tell anyone. You're letting me play in the paint!" I say happily, the paint halfway up my arms now, cool and running down like rivers.

Mycroft sticks a tentative finger in the blue paint; when he pulls it out its barely got anything on it but he's trying and it's great.

"What do I do with it now?" he asks, frowning at his blue finger. He looks so funny when he doesn't know what to do because he always knows what to do.

I laugh. "Anything you want. Feel it, paint something with it…..anything" I tell him. I rub my hands across the paper so fast they slip and I hit the paper with my chin falling slightly. It hurts but I smile so Mycroft gives painting a chance.

"Okay" Mycroft says, still smiling like he's being scandalous and rubs the paint between his fingers before smearing it across the paper and getting a bit of red to mix in it.

"What do you think?" I ask him, trying to get the paint off my face but only succeeding in smearing more across it from my hands.

Mycroft smiles. "Very strange. Disgust would not approve; but I'm going to give it a chance."


	5. Chapter 5

Mycroft paints with me for a while and it's great. He's not so sure at first but after a while even he has it all up his arms and a little bit on his shirt but I don't tell him in case that would make him angry. When he's done he leaves to clean up and draw a bath because 'that was the deal, mister' he reminds me. As the water runs in the bathroom, I stick my toes in the paint because Mycroft isn't watching and I have to have a bath anyway. I jump when the bathroom door opens and Mycroft comes out, drying his hands.

"Alrighty, little Picasso" he says, coming over to me. "Time for the tub. No fussing"

I was about to argue but since Mycroft was so nice I won't. "Okay, okay" I say reluctantly though, standing up and feeling the paint squish in my toes and beginning to dry up my arms so it feels hard.

We walk to the bathroom and Mycroft stops at the door. "I have everything you need already set up." he tells me, "Shampoo, flannel and soap are on the side, towel on the sink. I'll just…..let you get to it. Let me know if you need anything."

He seems like he's going to leave. I think about how I didn't want his help earlier and I yelled at him when he came in the bathroom while I was on the toilet. He said he just wants to help me, to take care of me but I haven't let him yet. He's going to leave me to give me space. But I don't want space and he's not going to help me unless I ask for it. It's hard for me to ask for help; Daddy just always does things without me asking.

"Um…..you could stay. If you want to" I tell Mycroft suddenly. He looks confused. "What I mean is….I want you to stay. Could you please help me clean up?"

Mycroft smiles; he looks so happy. It makes me feel even happier. "Yes, of course I can" he agrees.

The bathroom is all hot from the steam of the tub, like it does when you leave the door closed; that's good so you don't get goose bumps when you take off your clothes. There are lots of bubbles in the tub but no toys so it must be just a clean bath and not a play bath.

"Come on now, clothes off" Mycroft prods me, sitting on the edge of the tub. "You've got more paint on you than was on the paper. You're going to have to have quite a wash."

I feel a little embarrassed to take off my clothes in front of Mycroft. I remember how shy I was about that with Daddy in the beginning too. It was alright with him and so I am sure that it must be with Mycroft too. He wouldn't offer to help me wash if he wasn't alright seeing me naked.

"Don't be shy" Mycroft tells me, with a smile. "We're both boys, aren't we?"

I laugh, feeling nervous. "Yeah, we're both boys" I agree. Only Mycroft's not a boy who has a wet nappy under his trousers; I am.

I take off my shirt because it's the least hard to do and only girls have to worry about naked chests. The shorts are a little different. My nappy is a little wet and I'm shy about it; I know I shouldn't be but I am. Quickly, so I don't get too nervous, I throw off my shorts and am left just in my nappy. I can tell that Mycroft is watching me but he pretends to look away, so I'm not too shy to take it off. I don't look at him as I take off my nappy and throw it in the trash. When I sit down in the tub the bubbles cover up my bits so it's better.

The water is warm and wonderful; I splash around in the water and bubbles for a minute before I ask, "Cant I have toys even though it's a clean bath?"

"We want to have time for bedtime stories before bed, don't we? It's already getting really late?" Mycroft asks. His hands come to my neck, delicately taking off my necklace that I forgot to take off. Good thinking; I wouldn't want it to get ruined. His fingers tickle as they brush against the skin at my neck.

"Just one toy?" I ask. I look into Mycroft's eyes and give him my best sad pout. It works.

"ONE toy only" Mycroft relents "and you can play with it while you're having a wash."

Mycroft holds out the basket of my bath toys and I stare a bit before I pick. I pick out a baby toy I hardly ever use; a water filled rocket shaped teething ring. I swirl it around the tub a few times but being so shy made me feel suddenly so little so I just put it in my mouth and nibble and suck on it. The more I do, the more I feel like a baby; like I need help. Grown up worries go away and I begin to feel heavy and warm and sleepy; it might be nice to let Mycroft do all of the work.

"I think we should wash your hair first" Mycroft says. "Do you want me to do it for you? I know you're careful about your hair."

"Yeah…you can do it" I tell him, "Just be careful with it. It took Daddy forever to figure out the right way to do it."

"Oh, I promise to be careful with it. I wouldn't want to damage this beautiful hair." Mycroft says. He runs a hand through my curls and I shiver a little bit. I close my eyes and lavish in the sensation of warm water running from the top of my head and along my head until it makes hot rivers down my back. Mycroft uses his fingers carefully to separate my curls and make sure they don't get tangled and they all get wet.

"I've always thought that you have the prettiest hair. Everyone loves it, you know" Mycroft tells me.

For some reason I automatically say, "I'm not pretty". I don't know why I said it; I know Daddy thinks that I'm pretty but I never thought anyone else thought that, especially not Mycroft. It throws me off completely and somehow I feel shy because of it.

"Oh, don't you go saying that, Sherlock." Mycroft chides me, still working my hair. I have a hard time not sighing out loud. He adds the shampoo to my hair and begins to work it through the curls. At first he pulls and tugs at them the way that I don't like it but it's only a very short time before he's scratching my head in a good way and I melt a little bit inside.

"Why not?" I say. Again, it's automatic, like my mouth talks without checking with me first.

"Your Daddy isn't the only one that thinks you're beautiful" Mycroft tells me. "You just are."

I open my eyes and look at Mycroft who seems so out of place, kneeling by the tub with a smile on his face. "I am?" I ask. No one has ever told me that before John; well, except Nana and Nanas don't really count.

"Yes" Mycroft says. He runs water through my hair and then ruffles it. "You have pretty hair" he plays with my ears, "And pretty ears" he touches my nose with his wet finger, "And a little nose. And the best colored eyes" I guess what he's going to do so I close my eyes and he taps my eyelids gently.

"And your loud little mouth is pretty" Mycroft says when I open my eyes. "And this is pretty"

He surprises me when he reached under my arms and begins to tickle me so much I can't help but laugh. I say 'stop it' a lot but I really like it and can't stop laughing. I laugh so much I pee a little but luckily I'm in the tub so he can't notice.

"That's the least pretty part!" I protest when he stops, wrapping my arms around myself. I laugh but I do mean that. Nobody ever liked all of my scars or my being too skinny with no muscles. Daddy tells me it's pretty and it's easier to pretend to be a pirate with scars. He's got one too but it's just the one; sometimes we take off our shirts and put them on our head and pretend to be pirates with our battle scars.

"Scars are important, Sherlock" Mycroft says importantly. He puts soap into the flannel and begins to rub it along my skin, warm and tickling. The water soon turns a bunch of different colors as the paint flows off my body and into the water. "It means you faced something tough and was stronger than it. Means you're a fighter."

"That's what people say when they don't have ugly scars" I say with a grump.

Mycroft looks a little sad. "You'd be surprised" he says but before I can say anything about that he changes the subject.

"So, when your Daddy was telling me about taking care of you, he told me to be careful at bath time because you're so ticklish" Mycroft muses. "Hmmm…where did he say that was? Here?"

He wiggles the flannel on my side and I giggle. "What about here?" he says as he tickles my armpit. "Maybe here?" He tickles under my knee. I can't stop laughing.

"You're tickling everywhere! You're doing a terrible job remembering!" I say between giggles and though he keeps poking and tickling for a minute, he eventually stops and just finishes washing me. Mycroft's hands are bigger than Daddy's but they are smooth and he's very gentle as he runs the flannel along by skin. I close my eyes and nibble on my teething ring, feeling relaxed and yet overwhelmed by the sensation of the soap and Mycroft's hands on my skin. It's nice to let him do all of the work. Well, except for my private bits; he lets me do that myself.

To wash off the soap, I fall back into the water on my back and wave my arms around, pretending I'm in the ocean swimming. The water is warm but it's like I can almost feel the waves and smell the salt of the ocean as I picture it in my head.

"Alright, little duck. Out of the tub" Mycroft prods me. I laugh a little because that's what Daddy says sometimes.

"I'm not a duck, I'm a pirate. And this isn't a tub, this is the ocean" I say, splashing harder to prove it.

Mycroft holds up his hands to shield him from the water but his shirt gets splattered with water all the same. "Okay, then Pirate Holmes. The ocean is fierce and it's time to get out" Mycroft says. He stands up, having a hard time a little bit because it hurt his knees. He grabs the towel he set out and then holds it out, ready for me.

I still feel a little self-conscious as I climb out of the water because of being nakey but it's not as bad as when I got into the water. As I step out of the water, Mycroft wraps the towel around me; doing that, it sort of feels a bit like a hug and I close my eyes and relax at the touch. Mycroft rubs the towel around my body from top to bottom and then comes back up to tousle my hair dry with it.

"All dry, Pirate?" Mycroft asks, giving me the towel because he can sense that I'm self-conscious about being nakey.

"Yep" I say, holding the towel around my middle, feeling warm and dry and clean.

"Good" Mycroft says, smiling softly at me. "Then I suppose it's time to get you into your pyjamas and into bed."

"Ah…can't I watch a program before I get ready for bed?" I chance to ask Mycroft. "It would only be just one little program." I make sure to use my best begging voice to say it. I know I'm pushing it a bit; this never works with Daddy anymore because I've done it to him too many times and he knows that one program never ends up being one at all. But Mycroft has been very easy on the rules and I think I might be able to get him to agree.

Unfortunately, he's too smart for it. He lifts an eyebrow at me as he speaks. "I'm not going to fall for that one" he says with amusement, "You've stayed up quite late enough. We'll do a story before bed but you don't need to watch telly and get all excited before trying to sleep."

"Okay…..fine" I say quietly, resigned to it. It was a long shot anyway.

Mycroft walks back to my bedroom and I follow him, holding my towel loosely, letting it slide down my bits and laughing when it uncovers me; of course I only do that when Mycroft isn't looking.

I flop down on the bed when we get to my room and watch Mycroft as he rifles through my clothes looking for pajamas. Mycroft doesn't ask me what I want to wear; I guess since I had such trouble dressing earlier he's just going to do it for me and that's okay. He pulls out my rainbow pyjamas, the one with the big rainbow on the shirt and little rainbows on the shorts which are some of Daddy's favorite ones too. I blush a little bit when Mycroft pulls a nappy out of the other drawer too but I don't have long to worry about it because he hands it to me.

"How about you put your nappy on while I get you some warm milk? Then I'll help you into your pyjamas?" Mycroft asks with a smile.

For some reason, I feel a little sad that Mycroft wants me to put my own nappy on. It's confusing because I was a little scared when I thought he was going to do it and now that he's not I'm kind of sad. I know it's because I was so mean about it earlier so I just do it.

"Okay. That sounds good" I say with a smile and I wait until Mycroft leaves the room to throw off my towel and lay back on the bed. I lay the nappy underneath my bottom and wiggle into it. It's easier when I'm lying on the bed than standing up but I still don't like doing it. I miss Daddy; Daddy would tell me that I shouldn't have been so mean to Mycroft so he didn't want to try it anymore.

I fix and refix the tabs just in time for Mycroft to come back with my shark sippy cup of warm milk. "All ready for you pyjamas, I see" Mycroft says, sitting the cup on the table and grabbing my pyjamas. He's looking at me in my odd fitting nappy and I blush a little bit.

"I'm not very good at…you know….."I say, putting my hands on my lap but it doesn't cover all of my nappy.

"No…..I think it looks perfect" Mycroft says, giving me a smile. I know it isn't perfect and I'm sure that Mycroft knows this too but it still makes me feel good that he said that.

Mycroft grabs my shirt first and I put my arms up so he can work my arms in the sleeves and over my head. Then he puts my feet through the shorts and I lift up enough that he can slide them up and over my nappy, silly as it makes me feel.

"All done…..under the covers, Sherlock" Mycroft prods me and I reluctantly climb underneath the covers, sitting up against the headboard. My feet and legs are mostly bare and I like the feeling of the cool sheets against my skin. My stomach jumps a little when I realize I don't remember where my blankie is.

"Oh no!" I say, looking around, "I need my-"

But Mycroft cuts me off before I can say anything. He smiles as he tosses me my blankie. "Don't worry; Daddy told me your routine. I got it covered" he says.

I catch my blankie and feel the coarseness of the patches that were my original blankie and the softness of the patches that were Daddy's jumper. I love rubbing it against my face and smelling Daddy; even better to notice that some part of the smell is me too. Me and Daddy smell…..

Mycroft hands me my sippy cup and sits on the edge of the bed. "So what's it going to be? Two picture books or one chapter of Harry Potter?" he asks me.

I sip on the warm milk and then nibble on the plastic sippy part. "Both?" I ask hopefully, giving him my best smile. I can tell that it almost works.

"Nice try again" Mycroft says, "Daddy already told me you get either one chapter of a big book or two picture books. It's an even trade."

"Ah man…Daddy thought of everything before I could even try any tricks" I say, hitting the bed gently.

"I suspect you've tricked him so much he knows how vulnerable a new babysitter would be under your little charm" Mycroft says.

"I suppose so" I admit, grinning. I cuddle my blankie, thinking. "I guess I'll go with Harry Potter. It was just getting good last night and we had to stop."

"Sounds good to me." Mycroft says.

Mycroft sits on the bed next to me, on top of the covers and grabs the book off the bedside table. "Ah, 'The Half Blood Prince'" He says, "That's my favorite."

"You've ready Harry Potter?" I ask, surprised. Mycroft doesn't surprise me very much but I sure didn't expect that.

"Of course, Sherlock. Yes, this one is really good. Things begin to really get heated" Mycroft says, flipping through the pages to where me and Daddy left off last night.

"Though, I have to say you have to watch out for the ending" Mycroft warns, knowingly.

"No spoilers!" I say, holding up my hands. "I want to see on my own."

"Of course…..I wouldn't dare give away spoilers." Mycroft says.

"Well, you better not. That's a big no-no!" I remind him as he finds the page and gets ready to read.

Usually, when Daddy reads to me and it is a big book instead of a book that has pictures, I lay against him and close my eyes, taking away the need to watch the words on the pages and making a story of the words in my head. But this is Mycroft and I'm not so sure how much I should cuddle up to him. Taking a chance, I close my eyes and lean my head a little against Mycroft's shoulder a little, rubbing my blankie against my face. Mycroft just reads in a calm voice for several minutes until eventually I realize he's leaning in closer to me as he reads, making me feel warmer and safer.


	6. Chapter 6

When I sleep that night, I have the worst nightmares. I dream that it's that night all over again when John and I were at the pool with Moriarty. For a while, the dream goes on just like it happened; I walk into the pool room and see John there and for one wild, brilliant moment, I think HE is Moriarty. But then he pulls the coat back and I see the bomb. My heart stops in my chest and I can't breathe for the longest time. Well, it feels like forever to me as I take in the tunneling look of fear in John's eyes that he's trying to conceal. After a few moments I pull myself together internally and try to think what I'm going to do next. I was so scared but I had to try to my best to not act like it because Moriarty could see everything and I didn't want him to see how terrified I was. I didn't want to act scared and I didn't want to show how much John meant to me. If Moriarty knew I cared about John as much as I do he probably would have already killed him.

I've had nightmares of this night before; I often do that of experiences where John almost died. It was even worse before I could tell him how much I cared about him. Before he learned about me being little and tried out being my caregiver, we would come home from a case and go our separate ways. He'd go to his room and me to mine when I desperately wanted…..wanted…..something from him. To hug him, for him to hold me…anything to know that he was alright. But I didn't have that.

This night, the dream doesn't end like it really did. I watch John as he lunges out toward Moriarty, trying to take him down and with horror I hear the ear shattering sound of bullets ringing out in the enclosed space and then there's nothing….

It's all black for a moment and then I see something that makes me feel cold blood running through me. The pool is no longer a bright, shiny blue; its deep, dark red. And the source of all of that red is blood…and it's all coming from John's lifeless body floating in the middle of the pool.

I wake up in such a state I don't know what's real at first. It's dark in my room and though my quiet lullabies are playing it doesn't calm me. My heart feels like its beating out of my chest, sweat covers my body and makes my pajamas stick to me. My nappy is wet and cold and I can't stop crying. I'm crying so hard that it makes it hard to breathe. It all felt so real…..I was sure it was real.

"Daddy! Daddy!" I wail reaching out in the dark bed for Daddy but he isn't there. Daddy always sleeps with me and I don't know why he isn't now. Maybe something bad happened to him? He never ever leaves me in the middle of the night.

My legs feel shaky like jam but I stumble out of bed as fast as I can. I see now I'm in my room so Daddy must be in his room. I walk as fast as I can to his room, afraid of all of the dark and quiet in the house and feeling like all I can see in the darkness is that dark red pool. I must see Daddy now; I must know he's safe.

I burst into Daddy's room calling his name but I stop at once when I see Daddy isn't in his bed; Mycroft is. He looks relaxed and calm, his face eased and I don't wake him up; I realize now Daddy isn't here because Mycroft's babysitting me. The evening comes slowly back to me but with it I feel like I'm failing. And then I do fall; I fall to the floor and sob into the carpet. I want Daddy to hold me and hug me. I want to curl up in bed with Daddy and feel his arms around me. I miss him.

I must be crying loudly because suddenly there's a lamp being turned on and Mycroft's struggling to sit up in bed. "Sherlock? What's the matter?" he's asking me. He rubs his eyes and after he does, a little more awake, he looks at me like he's really worried.

I just keep crying; it's too hard to stop.

"Sherlock? Do you need something?" Mycroft prompts me, moving to sit down in the floor with me. "Did you have a bad dream?"

Yes, I think but I don't say it. That's one of the advantages of having a brilliant brother; he can know it without me saying it.

"You want me to help get you back to sleep after your scary dream?" Mycroft asks helpfully but it isn't enough. I don't want to go back to bed and be alone. It's scary in my room right now.

"I want Daddy!" I wail, crying so much I choke on my spit.

Mycroft is quiet for a long time and I don't know what he'd thinking because I'm not looking at his face. "What do you need from Daddy?" he asks me eventually.

It doesn't matter because Daddy ISNT here but still, I say, "I need him to hug me and hold me and let me know it's okay!" I yell. I almost worry I'm being nasty and rude by yelling. Maybe Mycroft will get upset like earlier when I yelled. Maybe-

I suddenly stop crying as I feel arms under me, pulling me up. Mycroft pulls me toward him so I'm sitting in his lap, facing him and his arms around me. I don't even think about it; I lay my face against his shoulder, wrap my arms around him and do nothing but feel GOOD. Mycroft's pyjamas are silk and smooth against my cheek and I smell his cologne; he doesn't feel or smell like Daddy but that's okay. He's a different kind of good. Mycroft is bigger so I don't feel like I smother him like I do Daddy sometimes but he leans against the bed to hold me up. Mycroft's arms wrap around me and rub my back and I just…sigh…

This is good…slowly, as I close my eyes and just feel the warmth and softness of Mycroft around me, I can breathe better and stop crying. My heart stops beating so fast and I know that nothing bad is going to happen to me.

Mycroft and I just don't do this; I can't remember the last time we hugged. We've had so many fallings out and fights over the years that there were times it was hard enough to talk to each other, much less have any kind of affection. I didn't realize how much I missed it until now.

"It's going to be alright, little brother. Nothing can happen when I'm around, remember? I'm the whole government so I can always protect you" Mycroft assures me.

I smile against his shoulder; maybe he's right. I told Mycroft what I needed from Daddy and since Daddy wasn't there, he gave it to me.

"Your nightmare must have been really scary but you know that we are safe right now, right?" Mycroft asks. There's a hand in my curls, gently playing with it them.

"Daddy…..it was a bad dream about Daddy" I tell him, my voice kind of muffled against his shoulder but he still hears me.

"You know Daddy is okay too" Mycroft tells me. "We called him right before you went to sleep and that was only about two hours ago. He was going to bed too; he's in his bed asleep in his hotel, safe and sound now."

"You sure?" I ask him, nibbling on my finger.

"Aren't you always complaining I know too much about you and your Daddy?" Mycroft asks me, "I know where he is and that he's fine. Just like us"

I nibble my finger a little harder. "Okay…if you say so, Myc" I say. My voice sounds littler than I excepted and the 'Myc' came out on accident. I used to call Mycroft that when I really was a little kid and couldn't say his name yet. 'Croft' is really hard to say when you're little, you know?

Mycroft rocks a little back and forth against the bed, lulling me. I feel heavy and tired and feel like going to sleep again. I could go to sleep like this; safe against Myc. But I know I'll have to go to bed where it isn't safe and besides my nappy is still cold and wet.

I'm mostly asleep, listening to the sound of Mycroft's heart (its irregular and when I'm big I'm going to tell him to go to the doctor about that) when he speaks. "You feeling better now, Sherlock?" he asks.

"Yes" I say, my voice very quiet.

"Do you need anything else?" Mycroft asks me.

I know that Mycroft is asking because it's time to get tucked back into bed. I don't want to go to bed alone but more than that I want my nappy changed. My stomach squirms a little bit because I don't want to do it myself but I know that Mycroft won't do it unless I ask him. I really messed it up by being so mean earlier; I'm afraid to ask though.

"Come on" Mycroft coaxes me, "What is it?"

Mycroft knows something; maybe he even knows what I want. But he wants me to ask.

"Um…..could you…..uh…."I start to say, nervous.

"How can I know, if you don't ask, Sherlock?" Mycroft says, his voice suggesting that he already knows anyway.

I hide my face in Mycroft's chest so at least I don't have to ask him while I look at him. "Could you…maybe…..change my nappy for me?" I ask, my voice shaking a little.

Mycroft is quiet for a moment, though it feels like forever. I feel fingers on my face and then Mycroft is pulling me away from his chest so I can look at him. I am glad when I see him smiling.

"Of course I will" he said, "Though, I've never changed a nappy before so I might not be very good at it."

I feel a smile on my face getting bigger and bigger. "I'm sure you'll do well," I tell him.

I walk back to my bedroom and Mycroft follows me. I feel nervous in my stomach; like how I felt all that time ago when Daddy changed my nappy for the first time. But it's a good kind of nervous; it's always easier after the first time.

I turn on my lamp as I walk into the room because I can't stand it to be dark in my room. I sit on the bed, grabbing my blankie and holding it while I watch Mycroft go to the drawer with the nappies in it. He takes longer than necessary to get them and I can tell he's a little nervous too. After what seems like forever, he grabs a nappy, wipes and powder out of the drawer.

"Okay, little brother" Mycroft said, turning around with a smile. "Lay back and get comfortable. This might take me a little while to get right"

Later, when I'm bigger and adult, I'll really be able to appreciate the irony of the man 'who is the British government' standing over me with nappy supplies, about to change MY wet nappy. But in that moment the only thing I really appreciate is that I feel close to him for doing it, and also the part the about being shy because changing nappies is a very close thing to share with someone.

Mycroft's fingers are cold and tickle me when they reach toward my shorts to take them off; it seems to shiver all the way down my legs and off my feet. When Mycroft has my shorts off, he looks a little uncertain, as if he's not sure how to do this; I could give him tips on what to do but I can sense that that would not be appreciated and might make things more awkward. So, I'll just let Mycroft figure it out and if he makes mistakes, then I'll just let him make mistakes. It won't matter; it just matters that he's doing it at all.

After some moments of hesitation and looking confused, Mycroft reaches down and undoes the tapes on my nappy. I hold my breath and almost wonder for a moment if this is the point that he'll realize that this is weird and stop; but he doesn't. Maybe all of that stuff that he said in the bathroom was the truth; that it doesn't matter because we're both boys and that I'm not ugly or anything like I worried.

The air feels cool on my bare skin, cooler than it should since it's warm in the room. But it's okay…Mycroft pulls on the nappy to get it away from me for a moment before I realize that I'm not helping.

"Ooops, sorry" I say and lift up my bottom so that the nappy can be pulled away. When I do it kind of flops back across the bed because Mycroft was pulling on it so hard.

We both start to laugh and that feels good; makes the shy go away. "Well, that was quite effective, I suppose" he says, retrieving it and throwing it away.

"Sorry…..I always try to help with nappies" I said, nibbling on my finger, feeling a little embarrassed.

"That's fine. You're being quite a good helper" Mycroft says, being honest. I watch him grab the baby wipes and then he pauses again for a moment, seeming to figure out what to do next. I give him time to do it on his own but it makes me not want my bits out for so long. Without really realizing it, my hands over them to cover it but Mycroft swipes at my hand with the wipes; he's actually being playful.

"Hey now…how am I supposed to clean you if you go on having a play there?" Mycroft teases me.

My face feels hot. "I am not having a play!" I say, embarrassed, because I really, really wasn't.

"Oh yeah? Well, what are you doing there, then?" Mycroft asks me. I think it's funny that he looks like he's embarrassed too.

"I was just….covering it up" I say, feeling kind of lame. My face heats up a little more but when Mycroft laughs, I laugh a little too.

"Whatever you are doing, hands up, mister" Mycroft says playfully.

I do as Mycroft tells me, moving my hands to my sides, laying them on the bed as I feel a shiver of nervousness again. Mycroft slowly wipes me down with the wipes, seeming shy about it; that's okay because I'm shy about it too. I don't ever have this much attention on my bits, except for Daddy and that's hardly the same thing.

The wipe was cold and wet and made me shiver some but after a moment it doesn't feel so cold. Everywhere it touches, I'm very aware of how it feels against me. Mycroft isn't looking at my eyes; he's watching what he is doing. But I'm looking at him and it feels so strange; looking up from my back during a nappy change and not seeing Daddy but Mycroft. It's strange but not in a bad way; all day Mycroft said that he wanted to help me and now I finally let him. And it feels good.

After Mycroft cleans me up, he opens the nappy up. Paying better attention this time, I lift up my bottom so that Mycroft could put the nappy on me. If anything, it makes me feel even smaller when Mycroft pulls the nappy around me and does the tapes. Something about it being Mycroft, who did take care of me when I actually was a baby, makes me feel littler in my mind. It's easier to imagine I'm a REAL baby.

When the nappy is in place (not as good as Daddy but still pretty good for a first time) he helps me back into my shorts. I watch Mycroft clean everything up and feel worry like a tornado in my tummy swirling around. "Please don't leave" I say in a loud voice. I didn't mean too but now that I did, I know I don't want to sleep alone. If Mycroft can change my nappy then maybe he won't mind sleeping in the same bed as me. I just really don't want to be alone.

Mycroft turns around and looks at me. I can tell that for once, it actually looks like I surprised him. "You want me to stay with you?" he asks, looking surprised but not in a bad way.

I look down at the bed to not look at him. "I just don't normally sleep alone. I'm used to Daddy being there" I tell him, still feeling unsure of saying it, "And especially when I have a nightmare…I'm just…I don't want to be alone right now."

Mycroft just looks at me for what feels like forever and doesn't say anything. I can't tell what he's thinking at all and that's new for me.

"You don't have to…..I just thought I'd ask" I say quickly, thinking he doesn't want to do it.

Finally Mycroft smiles. "I just wiped your ass; I'm not too shy to sleep next to you" he says, breaking the big brother facade for a moment and using a rare curse.

It makes me laugh. "Okay" I say, feeling happy that I don't have to be alone. I scoot over to my side of the bed and Mycroft gets into bed on the side that is usually Daddy's. He turns out the lights and turns toward me in the bed.

I lie on my side and face Mycroft but I don't touch him, in case he's not a cuddler. In the faint light I can see the outline of Mycroft lying next to me. I close my eyes for a long time, it being dark and quiet and sleepy. But when I'm almost asleep I can sense that he's watching me and I open my eyes. And I was right…Mycroft's eyes are open and watching me, not looking even close to be being sleepy.

Before I can ask him what's wrong, Mycroft speaks. "Sherlock?" he says. His voice doesn't sound very strong, like he's the one being shy now and that makes me feel squirmy.

"Yes?" I say, my heart beating fast as I wait for him to say something.

"I'm sorry" Mycroft says and that makes me surprised. I've been the one that was horrible today; what is he apologizing for?

"For what?" comes out of my mouth almost at once.

Mycroft doesn't look at me; he looks down at the bed in the dark. "I'm sorry for the way I used to treat you" he said, "I know that you were afraid to trust me because of the way I used to treat you. I know it seems to me that it was a long time ago but I never apologized for much of that. I know the hurt doesn't just go away. But I hope that you can start to trust me. I'm glad that you're letting me take care of you because that proves that you are giving me a chance. A chance I'm not sure I really deserve."

It surprises me so much that Mycroft apologizes; he hates apologizing and hardly ever does it. Usually, thinking about all the things that happened between us when we were younger makes me feel bad; right now it feels okay though. Maybe it won't hurt anymore and even if it does, Mycroft is trying. I never thought that we'd be here like we are now; Mycroft always seemed to hate my littleness and I never thought he'd accept it enough to actually take part in it. He says that me letting him take care of him shows I'm trying to trust him; him taking care of me proves to me that I can trust him.

I feel Mycroft's hands under the covers and take one in mine, giving it a squeeze. "That's okay" I tell him honestly. "I know you're trying. You wouldn't be trying to take such good care of me if you weren't sorry. I think we're doing good being better brothers."

I'm happy to see a smile spread across Mycroft's face in the dark and feel his hand squeeze mine back. "I think we are too" he agrees in a happy voice before he closes his eyes.

I think about scooting closer to Mycroft but I still don't know about the cuddling thing so I don't. But I'm happy that as I go to sleep, Mycroft's hand stays tightly in mine and the rest of the night I don't have any nightmares at all.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning I wake up very excited; the sound of my text alert goes off on my mobile and I wake up so fast I pop up in bed. Mycroft's not there anymore and I can smell breakfast coming from the kitchen. My eyes still hurt a little bit from being tired but I'm too happy to have a text message so I grab my mobile. I'm sure that the text must be from Daddy and I'm right!

Good morning, sweetheart! How are you doing? I hope you slept alright. I can't wait to get back home to you! XOXO

It makes me smile; especially the XOXO part because everyone knows that means hugs and kisses; I can't wait for Daddy hugs and kisses. It feels like it's been FOREVER since I had any!

HI DADDY! I LOVE YOU SOSO MUCH! MYC IS TAKING GOOD CARE OF ME BUT I MISS YOU SO MUCH AND I CANT WAIT UNTIL YOU COME HOME! EXTRA XOXO!- I send back to him.

I see the indicator that tells me Daddy is typing so I sit in bed and wait for his response. He takes forever when he texts so I have plenty of time to sit in bed and try to smell what Mycroft is making for breakfast and let my all night full bladder go into my nappy, making it full and warm and puffy. That always makes me feel extra little.

Good to hear. I can't wait to see my little pirate again! Have fun with Mycroft until I get home!

Texts from Daddy make me feel so happy and smiley. I take a selfie and send it to him with my happy, smiley face and he likes it.

I grab my blankie and take it and my mobile with me to the kitchen. Mycroft is still in his fancy pyjamas and dressing gown, setting out pancakes out on plates on the table. I'm super surprised to see that Nana is sitting down at the table in her dressing gown too.

"Nana! What are you doing here?" I say excited, rushing over and giving her such a big hug the chair slides a bit across the floor.

Nana laughs at my excitement. I sit down in the chair next to her since I can't sit on her lap like I can Daddy. "I wanted to see how you were doing without your Daddy here" Nana says, looking at me with a smile before she looks at Mycroft. "But it looks like you are in good hands with your big brother here."

Mycroft is sitting across from me and I see him smiling as he passes a plate to me. The pancakes have faces made with chocolate syrup. "Face pancakes!" I say, clapping my hands a bit before reaching for my fork. Nana laughs beside me.

"I'll take that as a yes then" she says.

Nana stays for breakfast but then she says that she had stuff to do in her own flat so she leaves and it's just me and Mycroft. "So, your Daddy will be here in about an hour. I bet you're excited that he's almost home" Mycroft tells me, taking the dishes off the table and into the sink.

It's almost impossible to hear but there's a little a bit of sadness in Mycroft's voice with his back to me. I don't think he wants our playdate to end and that makes me smile; I guess even though I was horrible to him at times, he still had a good time. And I have to admit that it wasn't all as horrible as I thought that it would be.

"Yeah…I missed him a lot" I tell Mycroft as he finishes up with the dishes and comes to sit across from me at the table. "But…..you know…..we do have some time left. We should do something fun with it." Already I have an idea, one that I like more than I expected to and one that I know Mycroft will like.

"And I assume you have something in mind?" Mycroft asks with a small smile.

I grin widely to him, sure he guesses at least a little bit what I have in mind. I take his hand and begin to pull him toward my bedroom. "You bet I do!" I tell him.

…

Mycroft loves the idea of giving me a makeover for Daddy when he comes home. I can tell by the way that he smiles and can't stop; I can't really either. Neither one of us says anything about the fact that it's what he used to do that caused such problems; we don't say anything about the fact that maybe I like dressing up because of that. We don't need to; we just need to have fun and that's what we do.

When we make it to my room Mycroft begins to look through my closet and I'm not surprised when he pulls out my Daddy onesie with the tutu and bow. I feel a little shy about it but not as shy as I do when he turns around and asks me, "Before we get changed I might as well ask if you need a nappy change too?" He is smiling which makes me think that he knows that my nappy is really wet. That doesn't stop me from lying as I feel my cheeks warm up.

"No!" I say, with perhaps too much feeling, my hands going to my nappy area, my face warm.

Mycroft just grins. "Get up on the bed. I know what that means" he says knowingly. I feel shy and embarrassed but I do as Mycroft says.

It's not quite as strange feeling as it was last night; my heart still beats fast in my chest and my breaths are fast but I know that it will be okay. I'm still embarrassed about Mycroft seeing my wet nappy and my bits but I know that it's okay; no matter what it's going to be okay. If he was going to feel weird about it, then he would have done it last night but he didn't; that means that it going to be alright now.

Mycroft doesn't pause this time; he just goes for the tapes quickly and undoes them. I make sure that I lift up at the right time this time so that he can take off my nappy before he wipes me down and puts on a new one. He's better this time; he learned from last night. It fits almost perfect and I hardly squirm at all from the wipes.

When Mycroft gets my nappy on, he helps me sit up so he can put my onesie on. When I try to help, Mycroft just says, "Just relax; you let big brother do it" and so I do. I let my arms and legs be all floppy, so Mycroft has to guide them into the arm and leg holes for me. When it's on completely, Mycroft stands back and looks at me. He saw me in it once, the first time that he saw me little but this time is somehow different. Mycroft looks at me differently; he looks at me like he sees me little for real.

Mycroft finds some blue nail polish in the bathroom and offers to do my nails. I try and tell him that I've never had my nails done and that the nail polish was left over from one of John's old girlfriends. Mycroft says that that must make it very old indeed which is his way of telling me that he knows that I'm making that up. Mycroft sits on the couch with the nail polish in his hand; he pats his knee and smiles up at me.

I take a seat on Mycroft's lap, holding onto his neck as I position myself in the right spot. It feels a bit strange but not in a bad way; it's just getting used to it. Just like last night when I sat on his lap, I like how he's bigger than me and I fit differently in his lap than Daddy's. Every time I move, even a little bit, my nappy makes a loud crinkle and I feel a little hot on my face from it. Of course Mycroft knows I'm wearing a nappy but somehow it's more noticeable when it's between me and his lap.

Mycroft takes one of my hands between his, fingers running along mine as he admires my nails. His hands are cold and it makes me shiver a little bit.

"You have very pretty nails for someone that goes running around the city picking at crime scenes" Mycroft says with a sly little smile. "Seems like this isn't your first manicure, is it?"

"No" I say hotly, even though we both know that that's a lie. "I may have a dirty job sometimes but that doesn't mean I have to let my personal appearance go. I'm not an animal"

I'm very serious when I say all of this so it makes me a little miffed when Mycroft laughs. "You're not an animal? Hmmm…that's funny because I thought you were a little monkey "he says still laughing.

I don't want to laugh but I do a little bit. "I am certainly not a monkey" I say, trying to be serious.

Mycroft takes the brush out of the nail polish bottle and paints one of my nails. He does it perfect; no paint at all on my skin which is a lot better than I can say I do when I do it myself. "What are you then? A princess?" Mycroft asks, painting another nail. He doesn't look at me when he says that but he smiles and I can see out of the corner of my eye.

I feel my face get hot again. "Maybe" I say. I like the idea of being a princess. Secretly, I'm Elsa, with long pretty hair and a beautiful dress and magic snow powers of course. But I don't just say that to anyone, even Mycroft.

"Well, if it's only just a 'maybe' then I have some more makeover-ing to do" Mycroft says.

Mycroft and I watch Zootopia while he finishes up on my nails. I like Zootopia because Judy is a police bunny and obviously I love a cartoons that talks about solving a mystery, even if it is a really easy mystery. It's a rainy day today and as I hear the sound of the rain on the roof, and feel Mycroft's hand holding mine as he does my nails and makes me look beautiful, I feel very peaceful.

When Mycroft finishes my nails, he tells me to sit down on the floor so that he can do my hair. He disappears back into my room for a moment as I watch Zootopia and when he comes back and takes his spot on the couch behind me, he has a bunch of hair things in his hands. I didn't tell him where to find them, he must have just known. I guess Daddy was right when he said that it was okay to have Mycroft watch me because he'd know things without even me having to tell him.

Mycroft seems very happy and I'm very happy too; in the glare of the telly I can see Mycroft looking so calm and relaxed and genuinely happy as he runs the brush through my hair. I've rarely see Mycroft look that pleased and I'm glad that it had something to do with me. The brush makes a good feeling scratching along my scalp, never getting caught in my hair because Mycroft does it perfectly so that it doesn't get caught. When he gets it perfectly smooth he begins to tie the ribbons in, his big fingers doing really good to tie them just right. He's even better than Daddy at doing hair; I love Daddy but he's a bit hopeless when it comes to making my hair look beautiful.

It's all quiet and calm; we don't talk we just hear the rain and the telly as Mycroft fixes my hair. I begin to think about when I was actually little and Mycroft dressed me up like this. Before things got bad and he laughed at me with his friends, we had fun doing it. I always thought that I was the one having fun and Mycroft didn't really like it; maybe now I'm thinking that he did enjoy it but had to pretend he didn't. I think about how he didn't understand my littleness; how he even thought there was something wrong with me. There have been so many misunderstandings; grownups can get everything so wrong sometimes. Things were okay when we were really little; now they are going to be okay because we are learning to be little with each other again.

When Mycroft finishes my hair, he tells me to stand up. He pulls out my little bee necklace that he got me and puts it around my neck; his hands tickle my neck as he puts it on me. After he does, he steps back a little bit and looks at. It's almost like he's never seen me before. He looks at me for a long time and it feels like it's different; he can tell everything about me just by looking but for once it doesn't feel bad.

"Aren't you just the cutest little princess there ever was?" Mycroft says with a little laugh as he looks admiringly at me.

I smile; because of what he said, because of the way he looked at me. I smile because something that was once broken is now fixed and that feels fantastic.

"And you're the best stylist ever, Myc"


	8. Chapter 8

John felt a bubble of excitement rise up inside of him as he spotted 221B as the cab rounded the corner. Soon enough he'd be home; soon enough he'd see Sherlock. For a long time, pretty much ever since they had first started to add age play to their relationship, John had been aware how close he and Sherlock were to each other; perhaps too close. Whenever they were gone from each other, for days or mere hours, he could feel it keenly. He knew this wasn't common but he was happy nonetheless. Needing someone that much, being needed that much was like nothing in the world. Sherlock saw him as his lover, friend, Daddy….Sherlock saw him as the person who loved him and cared for him most in the world. It was not easy to be away from that.

His conference had gone well despite everything; he'd learned a lot, met some great people and had a wonderful time. It wasn't until he'd gotten to his hotel room late at night that he had realized how much he'd missed Sherlock. He'd taken a shower and put on a pay per view movie that he didn't watch in an effort to distract himself; but Sherlock still called to him. Was he doing okay? How were he and Mycroft doing? Were they having fun? He knew that Mycroft had a lot of things planned but was Sherlock handling everything well? He hoped he was; it was hard to share Sherlock but his own brother was a worthwhile caretaker.

He'd had mixed feeling about the whole ' Mycroft as a caretaker' thing at first. After the near miss with Sherlock having cancer, John knew that Mycroft really wanted to be part of Sherlock's littleness. He seemed to genuinely be interested; he seemed to really be upset that he hadn't always been a part of Sherlock's little side. But John remembered what Sherlock had said before; he remembered how he'd said that Mycroft had dressed him up like a girl as a child and made fun of him. He felt his protective side flare up inside him; he didn't want anyone to hurt Sherlock ever. But in hindsight, he realized that he'd overestimated Mycroft's mistake; after all, he couldn't judge Mycroft, now in his fifties, by what he'd done as a teenager. And Mycroft did seem completely heartfelt in his desire to care for Sherlock so he'd trusted him.

He thought Mycroft could handle Sherlock but that didn't mean that he didn't worry Sherlock wouldn't freak out while he was gone. Sherlock could be upset by the smallest thing and he hoped that Sherlock enjoyed himself instead of worrying over the small things. His texts seemed to indicate that he was having a good time but that didn't stop John, surrogate parent he was, from still worrying. He was still very relieved when he stepped out of the cab at 221B.

There was a small amount of trepidation inside him as he walked up the stairs, worried he'd walk in on a disaster. But his excitement to see Sherlock again prevented him from stalling too much. Propelling himself up the stairs quickly, John pushed the door open and threw his suitcase on the floor.

If John had any worries left over from his reluctance to let go of Sherlock, they left the moment that he saw Sherlock and Mycroft. It was a sight that John couldn't have guessed to have seen in a million years; Frozen, Sherlock's all-time favorite movie despite watching it a thousand times, was playing on the television, while Sherlock and Mycroft sang 'Let it Go' in unison. Sherlock's appearance was surprising; despite his arguing that he didn't want Mycroft to see him in his skirt, he was wearing it now and apparently hadn't stopped there. His hair was done up in ribbons, his curls bouncing as he moved along to the music and if he wasn't mistaken he was sure that he saw nail polish on Sherlock's nails. John couldn't help but smile; apparently Sherlock had found someone who liked giving him a makeover as much as Sherlock enjoyed getting one. Mycroft's appearance was even more surprising and laughter inducing; somehow, Sherlock had convinced Mycroft to wear one of his tiaras which was perching hilariously on top of his balding head.

"Hello, princesses. Am I interrupting the party?" John said with a laugh, loud enough to be heard over the sound of the movie and the singing.

John was hoping for a reaction and he wasn't disappointed; at the sound of his voice, Sherlock whipped around, pure happiness on his face.

"Daddy!" Sherlock nearly screamed as he raced across the room for John. His smile spread across his face, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and his curls bouncing, with his arms stretched out ready for a hug, John had never seen a cuter sight.

Sherlock threw his arms around John's neck with such force that John fell backwards and almost was knocked completely off his feet. Sherlock squeezed him so tightly that he was sure that something was bruised but he didn't care. John hugged Sherlock tightly, Sherlock's head finding the crook of his neck to rest on as they embraced. John closed his eyes and simply took in all the sensations. The press of Sherlock's body against his, his arms squeezing him, his hot breath against his neck, Sherlock's little smell of baby powder and lavender lotion…John didn't know how he could possibly have missed Sherlock so much after only one day but as he felt a weight instantly come off him at the contact, John knew that he had been desperately missing him.

"I guess I'll take that as you missed me" John said after a while, reluctantly releasing Sherlock.

"Of course I missed you, Daddy!" Sherlock said, hopping up and down for emphasis. "So, so much!"

John was more than a little relieved when Sherlock gave him another bone crushing hug, followed by wet, open mouthed, smacking lips kind of little kiss that John never got tired of. His breath tasted like syrup and though his lips made John's sticky, he didn't attempt to wipe it away.

"I missed you too, sweetie. I am so happy to be home. "John said with a wide smile, feeling happiness radiating from himself.

Behind Sherlock, John could see Mycroft standing hesitantly off to the side. He was watching the exchange with a slight smile and when he noticed John watching him he seemed to remember the tiara and snatched it promptly off his head.

"Well, it certainly looks like you've have a good time with Mycroft" John said, smiling at Mycroft and gesturing around the toy strewn room.

Sherlock pulled at the hem of his skirt like he did when he was childishly nervous, looking back at Mycroft. John could almost see Sherlock's mental age go down by his expression. "Yeah…..me and Myc had a really good time" Sherlock said, "We went to a bee farm and McDonalds and watched movies and had bath time and played lots and lots!" Sherlock moved forward, holding out a necklace that he was wearing that was shaped like a bee with pretty stones incrusted in it. "And Myc got me this! Isn't it pretty?"

John couldn't help but smile; hearing Sherlock call Mycroft Myc was just too adorable. It also proved to John that he had earned his trust; when Sherlock trusted someone with his little self they got a new little space pet name. "Oooh…..it's so beautiful" John said dramatically, admiring the jewelry. "But not as beautiful as you. I can see you and Myc also did a little makeover, huh?"

Sherlock blushed a deep crimson which John was amused to see was reflected on Mycroft's face behind him. They looked like kids who had eaten too many sweets and had gotten caught with the chocolate on their hands. "Thank you Daddy…..I'm glad you like it" Sherlock said, shyly looking at John, obviously pleased with himself.

"Well, makeover might be a rather strong word "Mycroft said, jumping in to obviously save some of his manhood. "But….Sherlock does look very much like a little princess"

As much as John had hated to leave Sherlock, even if it was just overnight, as much as he worried and fretted about what would happen without him, it was all made worth it when he saw the smile on Sherlock's face and saw how happy Mycroft had obviously made him. He felt a slight twinge of jealously just as he felt when Sherlock had found a Nana in Mrs. Hudson; it wasn't easy to share Sherlock. But it dissipated quickly; seeing Sherlock happy made it worth it. And even he had to admit that Sherlock was too good not to share.

….

"Alright, Sherlock; Mycroft has to head home now. Say goodbye" John told Sherlock as Mycroft rose from the couch and put on his coat. None of them had seemed to want to end the day early and so Mycroft had stayed for dinner. Afterwards, Sherlock had been in an especially cheesy little mood and had taken upon himself to put on his Disney soundtrack and dance and sing dramatically as if John and Mycroft were a Broadway audience. When he'd grown tired of that, he lay on his stomach on the floor, coloring in contentment and John and Mycroft had alternated their attention from the telly to watching Sherlock attentively.

Sherlock dropped his crayons and looked toward Mycroft heading for the door. "Ah…..Myc, can't you stay over tonight too?" Sherlock asked, sitting up on his knees and giving Mycroft his best pout. John had to admit that Mycroft was good; John didn't think he could resist that pout if it was directed on him.

"Well, as much as I would like that, I have plenty of work to do tomorrow and I have to get some rest" Mycroft said. "But I will come over again, I promise. I had a very nice time babysitting you"

Sherlock jumped up, hands on hips in his no nonsense manner, curly head tilted. "Myc, I'm not a baby; I don't have babysitters" he said, sassy manner causing Mycroft to laugh.

"Oh, well, excuse me. You're right; you're not a baby. You're obviously a very grown up boy" Mycroft said with mock seriousness, suppressing a laugh at the irony of Sherlock saying he wasn't a baby when he was dressed in a onesie and nappy.

Sherlock seemed torn for a moment; thinking hard about whether to keep up his tough exterior or give in to his obvious desire to be coddled. In the end, he went for the coddling; rushing forward quickly, Sherlock threw his arms around Mycroft in a tight hug, obviously surprising him. Mycroft jumped slightly, his arms frozen but it wasn't long before he had wrapped his arms around Sherlock, hugging back. Not so long ago the sight would have been something that John would have never imagined seeing. Even still, it was hard to believe that the two brothers who had at one time acted so frigid toward each other were now practically cuddling after a weekend spent having playtime together.

After a long, obviously warm embrace, Sherlock seemed to grow shy again and slid across the floor in stockinged feet to stand behind John, watching Mycroft shyly from behind him.

"Sherlock, what do you tell Mycroft for all he did for you?" John prodded Sherlock, smiling at his sudden shyness and Mycroft's uncharacteristic color on his cheeks.

"Thank you, Myc" Sherlock said in one of his smallest, most childish voices, pulling on the back of John's shirt like it was a security blanket. "Thank you for all of the fun stuff we did and for my beautiful present"

"You're welcome Sherlock" Mycroft said, "I can't wait to do it again."

Sherlock, obviously overcome in a childish shy mood, ran and leapt up onto the couch, hiding his face with his blankie.

John had to laugh. "I can't believe that you of all people are going to act shy, Sherlock" John teased before walking Mycroft to the front door.

As Mycroft placed his hand on the doorknob to exit, he paused, turning around toward John. Though he opened and closed his mouth several times, he never did speak; John had to suppress a smile at Mycroft's sudden lack of speech, mirroring his younger brother's. At least Mycroft wasn't hiding under a fluffy blanket; though, if his and Sherlock's shyness about their sleep over together was any indication, it wouldn't take much to get Mycroft under that blanket too. And people said miracles didn't exist…

"Thanks for taking such good care of Sherlock" John said, saving Mycroft from having to break the silence. Then, feeling a bit awkward himself, he added, "I know that he didn't exactly need a babysitter or anything…..for real; he's a grown man. But it's obviously that he loved being little with you."

Mycroft colored slightly; if John hadn't expected it to be there, he wouldn't have seen it. He smiled, obviously unable to contain the smug glee that he felt at Sherlock's having enjoyed his being babysitter. "I know it wasn't easy for you to give up that role" Mycroft acknowledged with a slight nod. "But…I will say…..I am very glad you did. Sherlock and I…well…..this was long overdue. I thank you John for giving me another chance with him."

"He is your brother; he doesn't exactly belong to me" John said with an easy laugh. He did it out of awkwardness; they both knew that in a way John DID own Sherlock. When it came to Sherlock's little side, John certainly had the upper hand over anyone else. While he was very proud of this fact and found it hard to give up that role, he was trying to let go a little bit time at a time. Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft were proof of that. While John would have loved to keep Sherlock's most private self to himself he knew that it was only fair to Sherlock for him to be able to share his true self to everyone that was willing to see it. If Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft were able to appreciate his true, little self then who was John to deprive him of that extra affection?

"OH, but we both know he DOES" Mycroft said with a smile, calling them both out, speaking the truth. "Sherlock is devoted to you; especially little Sherlock. You wouldn't believe how much he missed you; he made sure that I knew I was no replacement for you at times."

John had to admit that he was pleased about that; he wanted Mycroft and Sherlock's night to be a success but at the same time he couldn't help the warm feeling that was spreading across his body at the knowledge that he was missed terribly by his little boy. "I'm sure that that is an overstatement" John said humbly, looking at the carpet and not Mycroft.

"No, he made it quite plain at times" Mycroft said with a laugh, "painfully so at times. But even so…..even though I wasn't you, I think we made our breakthroughs. I think he came to enjoy me being there even though I wasn't you"

John knew that he was blushing though there was nothing that he could do; no matter how many people shared Sherlock's littleness, he still like to think he was the gold standard for it. It was selfish and yet he knew he couldn't stop it…..he was always selfish when it came to Sherlock.

"I'm glad that you two were able to find your own way. I know Sherlock wanted that for a long time" John said truthfully. No matter how pleased he was Sherlock missed him, he was glad that he and Mycroft were able to through work the myriad of issues that they had and could enjoy other's company again.

"Sherlock has very strong opinions; I think we both know this" Mycroft said, a laugh on his lips and his eyes drifting toward 221B again, "He desperately missed you; he missed you like I never thought he'd miss anything. But at the same time I think we made progress. And I was glad to see that side of him. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome" John said, feeling still smugly warm from Sherlock's little approval. "You're welcome back anytime. And knowing Sherlock, I'm sure he'll bug you enough that it'll be sooner rather than later."

John saw Mycroft out the door with more happiness than he was sure that he'd ever had in the older Holmes' presence and made his way back upstairs.

Sherlock was still hiding under his blankie on the couch; though perhaps hiding was a bit generous as Sherlock's whole body was showing, only his head covered by the small, continually dirty blankie.

When John sat on the couch though, Sherlock quickly gave up the hiding. Whipping the blankie off his head, he immediately found his sweet spot, curled up next to John, his leg gently resting on John's own, his face in John's neck nuzzling like a cat.

"Aw…did someone miss me?" John asked, closing his eyes and happily basking in the gentle feel of Sherlock's skin on his, his warm breath blowing against him.

"Soooooo much, Daddy" Sherlock said in a warm, sleepy voice, holding him closer.

"Mycroft told me you guys really had a good time" John said, putting his arm around Sherlock and relishing in how calm he could be just holding him. He never failed to be surprised by how much he could miss Sherlock after so short an absence. When he really thought about it, he didn't know what his life had been like before he'd known Sherlock. Every affection that he had ever known before him was overshadowed by his never ending affection for Sherlock.

"I did but I still missed you tons!" Sherlock said emphatically, before grabbing John's face and smothering him with a sticky, sweet childish kiss on the lips.

John was smiling as he pulled back from the kiss. "I missed you too, love" he said, rubbing his nose against Sherlock's affectionately.

Sherlock climbed into John's lap as much as his lanky frame would allow, arms around his neck, his head against John's shoulder. When John ran his fingers through Sherlock's ample curls, he felt Sherlock sigh heavily in satisfaction. "Were you nice to Mycroft while I was away?" John prodded, wondering how nice he'd been if Mycroft had said that he'd made it quite clear he wasn't John.

Sherlock paused long enough for John to know that he hadn't been totally kind. "Mostly" Sherlock said honestly. "I did yell at him and throw soap at him"

"That sounds more than a little mean" John admitted.

"He came into the bathroom while I was in there!" Sherlock tried to protest. "I didn't want him to see my bits!"

"But we don't throw things, do we?" John asked, not unkindly but gently reminding.

"I apologized!" Sherlock defended. "And after that it was okay"

"So, I take it you didn't let him change your nappy then?" John asked, suppressing a laugh.

"Actually, he changed my nappy twice" Sherlock said in a slight know it all voice.

John wasn't sure why he seemed too smug about it but he couldn't resist the temptation to laugh a bit. The mental image of Mycroft changing Sherlock's nappy, really….

"Well, then I suppose I was wrong. Things must have gone much better between you then" John said, unable to get the daddyish Mycroft image out of his head.

"He let me have McDonald's and pizza in the same day! And we saw bees and painted and watched Inside Out and Zootopia!" Sherlock said, as if he felt the sudden need to defend Mycroft as being fun.

"Sounds like he spoiled you really well" John said, imagining how much of a handful Mycroft must have had on his hands. "Though, you must tell me, how did the makeover come about?"

"It was my idea of course" Sherlock said, looking up at John with a smug flip of his hair, as if he hadn't done that then John wouldn't have believed him.

"Oh, I'm sure of that, "John agreed, "But I'm surprised that you did. After all, yesterday you didn't want to wear this outfit when he came over because of how he used to treat you"

Sherlock looked up at John with a knowing look, one that truly made him look like a small child who thought John was just being a ridiculous adult. "Daddy, that was forever ago, don't you know? Mycroft likes treating me like a girl, really. And I like him doing it so it's okay."

Though it sounded like a simple phrase, it really betrayed a lot more behind it. John would certainly want a more in-depth explanation of the makeover, because who could blame him? But all the stuff that he and Mycroft had gone through, all the arguments and hurt, had been a long time ago and they had finally gotten to a place where they were okay with it. And that was all that mattered.

John hugged Sherlock despite the fact that he seemed exceptionally wiggly now. "If you are both happy, "John said with feeling, "Then that is all that matters."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed my story. Your kindness and enthusiasum keeps me going!


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